Lindsay Swanson said my desire to go public with our relationship was a disease—vanity run rampant. Something that needed to be cured.
So every time I brought up making an announcement, she'd have me shipped off to a psychiatric facility for electroshock therapy.
Even when all I did was suggest bringing her home to meet my family for New Year's dinner.
Lindsay grabbed the stun baton and dropped me to the floor without a second thought.
"Carl Barnes, if there's one thing I can't stand, it's a man who doesn't know his place."
"If you can't learn to keep a low profile, I'll just have to keep treating you until you learn to behave."
But that night at the Starlight Gala, when Morton Simmons—the company's newly signed rising star—suddenly reached out and took her hand...
Lindsay didn't fly into a rage or have someone beat him half to death. She didn't recoil in disgust or crack his skull with her stiletto heel.
And just like that, I understood.
It was never about men who didn't know their place. It was about me.
I turned off the livestream and signed the termination contract without a flicker of emotion.
My agent asked, her face full of regret, why I was in such a rush to leave.
My voice was calm.
"Family's been pressuring me. I'm going back to get married."
……
Kathleen Lawrence shot up from her chair, disbelief written across her face.
"Carl, have you lost your mind?"
"You're throwing away ten years of your career just to spite Ms. Swanson?"
I shook my head, my tone flat.
"It's not spite."
"It's a family arrangement. My fiancée has been waiting for me for a long time."
Kathleen stared at me, about to say something more.
The office door slammed open. Lindsay strode in, Morton trailing at her heels like a shadow.
Her gaze landed on the termination contract in front of me.
"Ha."
She let out a cold laugh, walked over, and picked up the document.
Right in front of me, she tore it to shreds and tossed the pieces into the trash.
"Carl, trying to force my hand by pretending to leave?"
"Don't you think this little game of yours is a bit... juvenile?"
I looked at the scraps of paper in the wastebasket. Not a ripple of emotion stirred in my chest.
Not like before, when a single harsh word from her could keep me up all night, aching.
"Ms. Swanson, I mean it. I'm terminating my contract."
"I'll pay the penalty in full. Whoever you choose to promote after this has nothing to do with me."
The mockery on Lindsay's face froze, then turned to ice.
"The penalty? With your pathetic earnings?"
She reached out, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against my cheek in a gesture designed to humiliate.
"Everything you have, I gave you, Carl."
"Without me, you'd be worse off than a beggar on the street."
Morton immediately stepped forward, tugging timidly at Lindsay's sleeve.
"Lindsay, please don't be upset."
"Is Carl upset because of that lead role? It's all my fault... Maybe I should just give it back to him."
The frost on Lindsay's face melted instantly.
She patted Morton's hand with gentle warmth.
"This has nothing to do with you. That role was always meant for someone like you."
She turned back to me, her expression shifting to contempt.
"Unlike some people, who've been acting for ten years without an ounce of improvement."
"Carl. Apologize to Morton. Now."
I didn't move.
"Why should I?"
Lindsay's patience finally snapped.
"Hello? Cancel all of Carl's scheduled appearances."
"Yes. All of them."
"And his bank accounts—freeze every single one."
She hung up and pressed the intercom.
"Security? Escort Carl out of the building. Clear out everything he has in the company apartment."
When she finished, Lindsay looked down at me from above, her gaze imperious.
