The scene was quickly set up.
The director looked at Rianne and said, "Ms. Kroes, I trust that with your talent, you'll nail it in one take."
Rianne smiled faintly and nodded. One take was unlikely because Abigail would undoubtedly cause trouble.
She wore the same costume as Abigail, and from behind, they were indistinguishable.
As the wire lifted her, the scenery below shrank into insignificance.
This scene involved the heroine being chased, losing strength, and falling off a cliff into the water.
"Action!"
"Bang!"
Rianne plummeted from mid-air, her dress fluttering, creating a massive splash upon hitting the water.
"Cut!"
Watching the monitor, the director stood up excitedly, "Ms. Kroes, your performance was impeccable!"
Rianne, draped in a towel, watched the playback, looking for flaws. She smiled lightly, "You're too kind, director."
Abigail, observing Rianne's beautiful face emerging from the water, felt her envy almost materialize.
She discontentedly nitpicked, "Director, are you sure? Rianne's limbs were stiff when she hit the water, not at all like someone injured and exhausted. Such a careless job won’t satisfy the investors."
Her tone carried an implicit threat.
The director's expression darkened. Abigail was always causing trouble, but he couldn't offend the power behind her.
Rianne smiled serenely, "No problem, let's do another take. Ms. Crowe has plenty of money, are you?"
Abigail ground her teeth in hatred. You won’t be smiling soon!
...
Elsewhere, Michael rushed to the set upon learning Rianne had joined the production.
"Mr. Palmer."
The assistant director, following Michael, flattered him, "Your vision is remarkable. Ms. Crowe’s fall into the water was flawless!"
Abigail was in the production due to Michael's connections, so complimenting her seemed safe.
Hearing Abigail’s name, Michael's eyes showed a flicker of disdain, and he remained silent.
He watched the figure rising on the wire, his brows furrowing.
Rianne? Wasn’t she working as a stunt coordinator? Why was she doing her own stunts?
Suddenly, Rianne turned her head.
Their eyes met unexpectedly in mid-air.
Before Michael could react, Rianne coldly looked away.
Michael’s sharp gaze stayed on Rianne, and the next second his pupils constricted!
Rianne’s wire snapped without warning, sending her plummeting!
Without a thought, he sprinted forward!
"Mr. Palmer!"
"Help! Someone save her!"
The set plunged into chaos.
Rianne let herself sink into the water, her vision piercing the icy depths. She saw the brows and eyes she longed for, filled with urgency, swimming toward her.
"Mark..."
With a splash, Michael emerged holding the unconscious Rianne, assisted by rescue personnel to the shore.
He compressed her chest without pause, his eyes fixed on her paper-white face.
Don’t let anything happen…
Abigail watched Michael’s frantic state with utter fear. If he found out she tampered with the wire, she was finished!
Taking advantage of the chaos, she signaled someone and quietly left the scene.
"Cough, cough..."
After a long while, Rianne weakly coughed, expelling water from her lungs.
Michael glared at everyone, "I expect a satisfactory explanation from your team."
Then, he carried Rianne away.
"Director, what do we do?" The assistant director looked anxiously at the director.
"Find out who dared to pull such a dangerous stunt!"
If they didn’t, the production was doomed.
...
Rianne awoke with heavy eyelids in a hospital bed.
The man standing by the window was tall and silent as a stone.
Hearing movement, Michael threw his unlit cigarette into the trash.
He strode to the bed, his voice cold, "Rianne, you’re getting bolder! You left your job as a stunt coordinator to be a stand-in? Am I so stingy that you risk your life for twenty thousand dollars?"
Rianne lifted her head, her gaze indifferent, "Mr. Palmer, we are about to divorce. You have no right to control me."
His inexplicable anxiety grew at her unfamiliar address and detached tone, "I haven't agreed."
"Does it matter?" Rianne sat up slowly, her eyes filled with mockery, "Michael, I have no masochistic tendencies to stay and suffer."
Recalling his misunderstanding yesterday, guilt flashed in Michael's eyes, "I've instructed the butler. Abigail won’t enter the villa again."
Rianne’s lips pursed, "Too late."
After everything, Michael’s resemblance to Mark couldn’t stir her heart anymore.
Michael frowned deeply, "As long as we don’t divorce, you can have anything you want."
Rianne’s eyes sparkled with challenge, "Fine, then. Remove Abigail from the lead role and make her kneel at Cocoa’s grave to apologize."
"Brother Michael."
The closed door opened.
Abigail, looking frail and sorrowful, stood hesitantly at the entrance.
Rianne rolled her eyes, feeling a physical revulsion.
Michael’s expression was icy, "How dare you show your face here?"
Abigail had no choice but to come; if Michael discovered her sabotage, she was doomed. Better to appeal now and hope for leniency.
She lowered her head in a display of sincerity, "Ria, it’s my first major production, so I was strict. I never imagined the wire would snap. I’m worried too."
Rianne laughed, "You dare deny it? Poisoning Cocoa, tampering with my wire—you think you were subtle?"
"You’re lying! I did nothing! Brother Michael, don’t believe her lies!"
Abigail’s teary eyes turned to Michael.
Michael’s gaze was icy, his voice venomous, "You lack both morality and skill. The lead role is better suited for someone competent."
Abigail’s eyes widened in shock, "Brother Michael, my sister secured that role for me. You can’t just replace me!"
Michael was unmoved, "Kneel at Cocoa’s grave to apologize or disappear from this city. Choose."
Rianne’s eyes widened slightly. Why was he agreeing with her now? Why wasn’t he defending his beloved’s sister?
"Brother Michael?"
Abigail, realizing Michael was serious, panicked.
Michael pointed to the door, "Take your leave and don’t disturb my wife’s rest."