In the previous life, that low-budget drama had exploded in popularity, yet I hadn't seen a dime of return. Director Wang had despised Natalie's acting. I had tried to frame the five million as an investment, but he refused.
In the end, I changed the terms: the five million was simply her "entry fee." The drama's profits would have nothing to do with me. Only then did he reluctantly agree, fulfilling Natalie's stardom dream.
I knew it was a sunk cost. Money could be earned again, but I had wanted to give her a future before I went to prison. To keep her from overthinking it, I had buried the truth deep in my heart for eight years.
Silence stretched on the line.
"Just five million?" Natalie finally scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "Do you think I can't afford that? Evan, without you dragging me down, I'll live a better life than you ever could!"
She hung up.
I returned to the meeting, finalized the details, and headed home.
The moment I stepped into my apartment, the cloying scent of sweet perfume hit me. Natalie's signature scent.
Frowning, I strode to the desk. The drawer hung open.
I stared into the empty space.