Chapter 11: Smoke Doesn’t Lie
They found the first body a week later.
Not dead—just ruined.
Direk Leonard, found in a motel bathroom, pants around his ankles, bruises across his ribs. His mouth was duct-taped shut, and carved across his chest with a dull cutter:
“SHE WASN’T ACTING.”
The police called it a targeted assault.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ72o0D53Mp5
The tabloids spun it as a scandal.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwrcXeDN36h
The studio? Silent.
Mia didn’t flinch.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhXlB6wNFQ3
She was already on her next scene. The one she wrote herself.
Clark watched from a distance. He didn’t ask questions.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3Lh0DrepGi
But he did something far worse.
He started writing again.
A script titled “The Girl in the Frame.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrheb5LtEVE
The story of an actress who became her own director. Who used the system that broke her to build a quiet empire of vengeance—bloodless, but never clean.
He never named Mia.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmQcmNrfJrF
But the script bled with her fingerprints.
And one night, she found it.
His laptop left open, blinking on a desk beside an unfinished beer.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4lrTAIIQYs
Mia scrolled in silence.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3lvDGuS8f3
By page thirty-four, she knew:
He knew too much.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd6cTvCZTyv
And worse… he saw her.
Not the product.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCck6lQSj60
Not the whore.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnjIiH17zcs
Not even the mastermind.
He saw the girl before it all began.
That was more terrifying than exposure.
So she left one of her earrings on his keyboard.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJNXUPPfc6J
A silent warning.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNKnF6vuijW
Or maybe a question.
Would he sell her?
Or protect her?
Back on set, tension crackled.
A new director came in—young, female, “progressive.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP4lGJJQJgM
Touted as fresh blood.
Mia saw through her in five seconds.
Just another one playing a different game. Same stakes, softer lipstick.
The crew was uneasy around Mia now.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡolmFp8dgxG
They called her "The Eyes."9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKnDgXjFF3Z
Because anyone she looked at too long either disappeared… or got demoted.
But Clark? He stayed.
Watched. Wrote. Waited.
One day, during a break, Mia cornered him by the props truck.
“You gonna shoot it?” she asked. “Your script.”
Clark lit a cigarette, refusing to meet her gaze.
“Would you let me?”
“No.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlp9hFU21O6
(She didn’t hesitate.)
He nodded, like he already knew.
“I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever written,” he said quietly.
Mia tilted her head.
“You always write about women like me?”
“No,” he admitted. “There’s only one of you.”
That silenced her.
Not flattery.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjEEiS7NH00
Not lust.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqAwAwulTap
Just truth.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEJ5AFJZDig
And truth… was rare.
That night, she got the second envelope.
This time: A USB.
Inside:
A voice recording of her, post-scene, mocking Leonard’s limp.
A photo of her talking to Clark, labeled “Asset or Threat?”
A list of dates. A timeline of the downfall. All pointing back to her.
Whoever sent it knew.
But they hadn’t gone to the cops.
Which meant:9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZ3ybqMTJOL
This was leverage.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeY4sI7a7WG
Or foreplay.
She printed the list.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoGJ5dIOeek
Burned half.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFntn00fPeY
Kept the other.
Then she called Clark.
“Come to my place,” she said. No sweetness. Just command.
He arrived an hour later.
Mia opened the door in silence.
Hair wet. No makeup. No games.
“Before you see this,” she warned, handing him the files, “ask yourself—how far are you willing to fall with me?”
Clark read in silence.
The longer he stared, the more his expression broke into something between horror and awe.
He looked at her.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhLkdXcHxUD
Really looked.
“You’re not just burning the script,” he whispered.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3EgFwR4pJp
“You’re rewriting the whole genre.”
Mia leaned closer.
“I’m erasing the men who wrote it.”
And that night, for the first time, she didn’t sleep with someone to survive.
She slept beside Clark—fully clothed, lights off, a blade under her pillow.
Just in case.
Because trust wasn’t given.
It was tested.
And tomorrow, someone else on the list would burn.
ns216.73.216.12da2
