Chapter 197

Eleanor's POV

The lights blazed through the windows, a stark contrast to the darkness I felt inside. I only turned my phone back on when I reached the studio, immediately calling the director to let him know I had arrived.

The director's excitement was barely contained when he saw me. His blue eyes gleamed with an enthusiasm that made my stomach turn. "Eleanor, go change first. Just wrap yourself in a robe, that's all you need. Don't worry, I'll clear everyone out except for two camera operators and myself."

Noticing my red, swollen eyes, he added in what he probably thought was a comforting tone, "First time jitters are normal. Just follow my direction. With your figure, you could make men swoon just by existing. Relax."

"Okay," I responded mechanically.

My tears weren't about what I was about to do. They were about the phone call with Quinn moments ago. Her genuine concern had nearly broken my resolve. I had almost confessed everything.

A female assistant led me to the changing room, her judgment evident in every glance she cast my way. I stood there, wrapped in the plush white robe, unable to take that final step through the door.

I knew many stars did questionable things before making it big. Compromising oneself was practically an open secret in the entertainment industry. Even some A-listers still played these games at the behest of powerful producers.

But I bit my lip, wondering if I was the only one who was still... innocent... about to do something like this. The irony felt like a slap in the face.

Finally, I forced myself to open the door. I clutched the robe tightly around myself, only my calves exposed. A futile gesture of modesty, considering what was about to happen.

Under the harsh studio lights stood a bed, looking deceptively soft and inviting. The director instructed me to lie down and remove the robe.

I was trembling. My entire body shook uncontrollably.

On the director's third patient prompt, just as I was about to let the robe slip...

"ELEANOR YATES! DON'T YOU DARE!"

A furious shout suddenly echoed through the studio, making everyone, including me, jump. My heart skipped a beat as my fingers instinctively clutched the bathrobe wrapped around me.

I looked over to see Drew standing there, his face red with rage. I felt my blood freeze. I'd never seen him this angry before. Those eyes that usually carried a casual, carefree look now held something that genuinely frightened me.

I was stunned. Running into someone I knew in a place like this was the last thing I'd expected. Shame washed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to drown me completely.

Drew kicked over the camera in front of him, his fury reaching its peak. I could feel the anger radiating from him, the pressure making it hard to breathe.

The next second, he wrapped his arms around me, fiercely securing my robe, as if terrified it might fall off in front of all these people. His movements were urgent yet careful; I could feel his arms trembling. The protective gesture sent a wave of bitterness through me - I'd already decided to face everything alone.

The director, intimidated by Drew's presence, stammered, "Who... who are you?! This is a closed set, I can call the police for trespassing!"

The sketchy producer, intimidated by Drew's presence, stammered, "Who... who are you?! Get out of here before things get ugly!"

Drew thundered back, "You're the ones who should be worried! Running an illegal operation, no permits, no safety protocols - I should call the FBI right now!" His voice reverberated through the basement like thunder, and I could feel the other guys shrinking back.

The producer's face went pale. My heart was still racing, shame and gratitude wrestling in my chest.

Drew turned to me, his voice suddenly gentle, "Where are your clothes?" The stark contrast in his tone made my heart ache.

"In the back room," I answered softly, as if afraid to disturb the tense air around us.

"Go put them on," he ordered, his eyes brooking no argument.

"Drew..." I tried to explain but didn't know where to start. How could I tell him I'd run out of options?

"If it's about money, how much are these criminals offering? Fifty grand? I'll give you fifty right now!" Drew was practically exploding with anger. Looking at him, so furious his hair seemed to stand on end, I thought about how he'd be even more upset if he knew I was desperate enough to consider their measly thirty grand offer. A indescribable sadness welled up inside me.

But given the situation, I knew I couldn't stay. Deep down, maybe I was even relieved - relieved that he'd found me, relieved that someone had stopped me from making this dangerous mistake.

"Just give me a minute," I told him calmly, though emotions churned beneath the surface.

Drew hesitated for a long time before letting go of me, then followed me to the back room, afraid I might be trapped or threatened. His concern both touched and pained me - we weren't even that close.

After I changed, Drew wordlessly led me out of the basement, his hand holding mine firmly. His hand was warm, but it made my heart grow cold as I thought about the risks I'd nearly taken.

In his Mercedes, he didn't start the engine, seemingly still processing his anger. The silence in the car was almost crushing.

"How did you find this place?" I asked, my voice barely hiding a tremor.

He grew even angrier, "If I hadn't, you could've been hurt! Do you know what happens in these illegal operations? No safety, no protection, no legal recourse if things go wrong!"

"Sarah, if I hadn't been having dinner with some club owners tonight and overheard them talking about this underground operation and a new girl... I thought I'd heard wrong! I called your brother and found out what's going on! Damn it, Sarah, I know times are tough, but risking your safety like this?" His scolding was filled with concern, making me feel even worse.

I knew he wasn't judging me, just terrified that I'd put myself in danger for money. But his concern made me feel helpless, like I was back to being that little girl who needed protection.

"You've never been desperate," I shot back. "How would you know how I feel?" My voice was defiant but couldn't hide the bitterness.

"I...!" Drew was lost for words. Looking at his struggle to respond, my emotions were a tangled mess.

"Even though you interrupted my chance to make money tonight, I know you meant well, so I won't hold it against you. Just pretend you don't know me from now on. I'm getting out..." I tried to make my voice sound light, but my throat felt tight.

"How much do you need?" he suddenly asked. Those words hit me like a hammer to the heart.

I turned to look at him, unable to believe what I'd heard.

"I can get you fifty grand right now. Is that enough? If not, I can arrange more," he said directly, with a seriousness I'd never seen in him before.

"Not necessary," I refused. "I'll figure something out myself." As I spoke, I felt something twist in my chest.

"It's all business anyway, isn't it? Why not do business with someone you know? Isn't that better?" he said coldly.