Chapter 232: Cannot Afford to Offend
Miranda was scrolling through her phone, smiling at the comments.
People were talking about her. About Noah. About that woman who thought she could just appear next to him without anyone noticing. The articles were still up. The speculation was still running. Everything was going according to plan.
Her phone rang. Carla. Her manager.
Miranda answered with a smile in her voice. "Tell me something good."
Carla’s voice was tense. The kind of tense that made Miranda’s stomach drop. "Something is happening. Outlets are pulling the stories."
Miranda stopped smiling. "What do you mean pulling?"
"I mean they’re deleting them. One by one. I just got calls from three different editors. They said they can’t run anything else about Arianne Summers."
"That doesn’t make sense. Why would they pull them? They were getting clicks. People were talking."
"They wouldn’t say. They just hung up. One of them sounded scared."
Miranda stood up from her couch. Walked to the window. The city was dark outside. The lights from the buildings across the street blurred in her reflection. "Did you call the others?"
"All of them. Same answer. They’re not running anything else. No more stories about her. No more speculation. Nothing."
"That’s not how this works. They don’t just drop a story because someone asks."
Carla was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Someone didn’t ask. Someone told them to stop."
Miranda’s heart started beating faster. Not in a good way. The kind of fast that made her palms sweat.
An hour later, Carla called again. Her voice was higher now. Strained. The way it got when she was trying not to panic.
"Style Weekly just pulled your cover. They’re running someone else."
Miranda gripped her phone tighter. Her knuckles went white. "What? Why?"
"They wouldn’t say. They just said they’re ’reevaluating their partnership.’"
"That’s my biggest cover of the year. I was supposed to be on the front. The whole interview was about my upcoming projects."
"I know."
Miranda started pacing. Her living room was big. Empty. She had bought this apartment to impress people. High ceilings. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A kitchen that cost more than most people’s houses. Now it felt like a cage. The walls were closing in.
Another call came through. Carla put her on hold. Miranda waited. Listened to the silence. Her own breathing was too loud.
Carla came back. Her voice was shaking now. "Luxury Cosmetics just dropped your endorsement. Effective immediately."
Miranda stopped walking. Her feet felt stuck to the floor. "They can’t do that. I have a contract. A signed contract with a term of two years."
"They’re citing the morality clause. They said the negative press is damaging their brand."
"What negative press? The stories about Noah? Those are about him, not me. I’m barely mentioned."
"They mentioned your name. They connected you to the rumors. The brand doesn’t want to be associated with that."
Miranda’s hands started shaking. She sat down on the couch. The leather was cold against her legs.
She didn’t sleep that night.
She lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, checking her phone every few minutes. Refreshing the news. Refreshing her social media. Nothing changed. The stories about Arianne were gone. Not just buried. Gone. Deleted. Like they had never existed.
Her name was still there, but the articles were thinner now. Less interested. The comments were different too. People were asking questions. Why were the stories pulled? What happened? Some of them were starting to side with Noah.
She turned off her phone at three in the morning. Stared at the dark screen. Thought about calling Carla. Didn’t.
The next morning, she went to Carla’s office.
The building was quiet. Too quiet. Usually there were assistants running around, people on phones, the sound of the industry moving. Today it felt like a library.
Her publicist was already there. A woman named Jenna who had been with her for five years. Jenna wouldn’t look her in the eye.
Her lawyer was on speakerphone. His name was Richard. He sounded tired.
Carla slid a document across the table. "Cease and desist. From Noah Hart’s lawyer."
Miranda picked it up. Read it. Her face went pale. The paper was warm from the printer. She could smell the ink.
"Threatening legal action? Over what? We didn’t do anything illegal. We just talked to some reporters. That’s not a crime."
Richard’s voice came through the speaker. "You spread false information about a private citizen. That’s defamation. If they pursue it, you could be liable for damages. And with the Rochefort Group backing her, they have resources."
Miranda put the document down. Her hand was shaking again. She pressed it flat against the table to make it stop.
Carla turned her laptop around. "Rochefort Group also released a statement. It went out this morning."
Miranda read the screen. Her eyes moved across the words once. Then again.
"Arianne Summers is a private citizen and an executive of this corporation. She has the right to pursue legal action against any individual or organization making defamatory statements about her character or professional history. Rochefort Group fully supports her in protecting her reputation. Further false statements will be met with appropriate legal recourse."
She read it a third time. The words didn’t change.
"Who is Arianne Summers to them?" Miranda asked. Her voice came out smaller than she wanted it to.
No one answered. Carla looked at the table. Jenna looked at the window. Richard coughed on the speakerphone.
"She’s not just some woman he’s dating," Carla said finally. "She’s an executive at a major corporation. She has power. Money. Connections."
Miranda felt something cold settle in her chest. "They would go that far to protect her?"
"She’s someone we cannot afford to offend."
Miranda thought about Noah.
The first time she saw him was five years ago at a charity gala. He was standing by the bar, alone, not talking to anyone. He wasn’t working the room like the other actors. He wasn’t posing for photos. He was just standing there, holding a glass of water, looking like he wanted to be somewhere else.
She walked up to him. Smiled. Introduced herself. She was wearing a dress that cost more than most people’s rent.
He was polite. Distant. He shook her hand and said it was nice to meet her. He didn’t look at her twice.
She followed his career after that. Watched his interviews. Saw every movie he made. Noticed he never had a serious girlfriend. There were rumors sometimes, but they never lasted. He never confirmed anything. He never brought anyone to premieres. He never talked about his personal life.
She thought maybe he was waiting. Maybe he hadn’t met the right person. Maybe he was shy. Maybe he just needed someone to make the first move.
When they worked together two years ago, she tried to get closer. She invited him to dinner. He said he was busy. She showed up at his trailer between scenes, wearing something casual but fitted. He was polite but cold. He didn’t invite her in. He didn’t suggest another time.
She thought if she couldn’t have him, no one should.
When she heard rumors about him seeing someone, she panicked. A woman who wasn’t in the industry. A woman who didn’t belong in his world. A woman who had done nothing to earn a man like Noah Hart.
She wanted to scare her away. Make her think twice about dating a man like him. Make her see that his world was dangerous, that being with him meant being watched, judged, picked apart.
She never expected this.
Noah Hart had never retaliated against anyone. Not once in his entire career. He was known for being calm. Professional. The kind of actor who didn’t play games, who didn’t start fights, who didn’t get involved in drama.
But this.
This was different.
And now she understood. Sitting in Carla’s office, looking at the cease and desist, reading the Rochefort Group statement, watching her career collapse in real time.
Now she knew. And it was too late.