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.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB12s3XvROs
The tabloids spun it as a scandal.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcWR56dpC9S
The studio? Silent.
Mia didn’t flinch.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjYkUsVd7IS
She was already on her next scene. The one she wrote herself.
Clark watched from a distance. He didn’t ask questions.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡopJSqf1C9F
But he did something far worse.
He started writing again.
A script titled “The Girl in the Frame.”8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEAs9myH6Wg
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.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡN0GByKXWSV
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.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvvDAN3o7au
Mia scrolled in silence.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo6rzhyaztE
By page thirty-four, she knew:
He knew too much.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLGGH5XOdAl
And worse… he saw her.
Not the product.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl6W1CrxgRp
Not the whore.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq2Yevn8yZI
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.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3NpJsSPlCf
A silent warning.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCOsDdOFyK6
Or maybe a question.
Would he sell her?
Or protect her?
Back on set, tension crackled.
A new director came in—young, female, “progressive.”8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK6W3c7fatC
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.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡURGOssQpUt
They called her "The Eyes."8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgoRWAxSG5n
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.”8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhVg8DZQuKJ
(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.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLG8WMEdwgJ
Not lust.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD0f4f2711S
Just truth.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNXRpWoFWyi
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:8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC9TxDPCTrL
This was leverage.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3RIpY0F699
Or foreplay.
She printed the list.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUQhBSDdpuF
Burned half.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmrMlgN7oDI
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.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzqoUm5PYM1
Really looked.
“You’re not just burning the script,” he whispered.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPR70oN7fUJ
“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
