The Scumbag's Regret: My Lethal Comeback

Jefferson walked out the main gates of the studio lot, surrounded by his wall of bodyguards. The dying sunlight of the Los Angeles evening hit his cold, aristocratic face.

A black, bulletproof Maybach was already idling at the curb. The driver respectfully pulled open the heavy rear door.

Arthur came jogging out after them, his face plastered with a desperate, fawning smile, trying to secure Jefferson for a cameo in his next film.

Jefferson stopped. He shoved one hand into the pocket of his tailored trousers. His tone was flat, but the oppressive weight of his authority was undeniable. "Arthur, your set is too loud today."

Arthur froze. Cold sweat instantly beaded on his forehead. Everyone in the industry knew the second son of the Stein family despised unprofessionalism and noise.

"That actress, Candice. She spends too much energy spraying perfume and socializing in the hallways," Jefferson said, casually adjusting his cufflink. It was a lethal, precise strike.

Arthur understood immediately. The apex predator was expressing extreme dissatisfaction with Candice. He nodded frantically. "I understand completely, Jeff. I won't let her ruin the atmosphere of the set again."

Jefferson gave a curt nod and bent down, sliding into the spacious leather backseat of the Maybach. The heavy door slammed shut, cutting off the noise of the outside world.

Inside the car, Julian sat in the passenger seat. He turned around, staring at his boss in absolute shock. "Were you... were you just standing up for that Karina girl?"

Jefferson leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. His voice was lazy. "I was simply stating a fact that affects Hollywood's industrial standards."

Julian rolled his eyes, mentally calling bullshit. But he didn't dare cross the man who paid his salary, so he kept his mouth shut.

Just as the Maybach began to pull away from the curb, Jefferson's eyes snapped open. He caught a faint, static-like frequency buzzing in his brain.

[Hey! Taxi! Stop right there! My legs are going to fall off! I need to go home and lay down! ]

Jefferson turned his head and looked out the tinted window.

Karina was standing on the sidewalk, wearing a cheap, faded windbreaker and a battered backpack, waving frantically at a yellow cab.

She had scrubbed her face clean of makeup. In the sunset, her bare face possessed a breathtaking, fragile beauty, but her movements were as rough and aggressive as a construction worker's.

The cab pulled over, and Karina slid into the back seat like a slippery eel. The car sped off down the street.

As the taxi drove further away, the crisp voice in Jefferson's head grew fainter and fainter, until it completely disappeared into silence.

Jefferson's long fingers began a slow, rhythmic tapping against the leather armrest. His eyes darkened, turning dangerous. He had just confirmed the physical rules of his telepathy: it had a distance limit.

"Julian," Jefferson said suddenly. His voice filled the quiet cabin.

"Yes, boss. What do you need?" Julian straightened his spine immediately.

"That reality dating show pitch deck Leland Finch sent over. Heartbeat Weekly. Send it to my tablet."

Julian's hand jerked, nearly dropping his own tablet onto the gearshift. He whipped his head around, his face pale. "Excuse me? ! That trashy, scripted dating show? !"

"You are an A-list actor with zero scandals! If you go on a show like that, your fans will literally riot!" Julian protested, his voice rising in panic.

Jefferson didn't raise his voice. He simply turned his head, his cold, amber eyes fixing on his agent with an eerie, unblinking stillness. The silence stretched for a suffocating second. "Just send it, Julian," he said softly, the quiet authority in his tone far more terrifying than a shout.

The crushing weight of Jefferson's dominance slammed Julian's mouth shut. Gritting his teeth, Julian tapped his screen and forwarded the file.

Jefferson looked down at the glowing screen. He scrolled to the cast list. Karina Abbott's name was right there, highlighted in red ink with the note: Controversial Foil.

His fingertip slowly traced over her name on the glass. A dark, predatory smirk curled the corner of his mouth.

He was going to find out exactly what secrets this woman was hiding-the woman whose thoughts had violently forced their way into his silent world.

At that exact moment, Julian's phone rang. It was the head of the PR department. "Julian! The data you asked for on Karina just exploded! The whole internet is ripping her apart for assaulting Candice on set!"

Hearing the panicked voice through the phone, a terrifying, icy glint flashed in Jefferson's eyes.

Someone was trying to touch his prey. They were asking for death.