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Chapter 9 - She's dead. Damn it! (1)

Michael had expected Sammy to storm in, furious and loud. Instead, she smiled gracefully, almost too calmly and stepped into the room ahead of him.

He rolled his eyes behind her back. 'Thank God', he thought. For once, he wouldn't have to explain something he hadn't seen happen.

Following her inside, he stopped just short of Brian's bedroom door. "Please wait here," he said firmly, standing in front of her. "I'll let him know you're here."

Sammy frowned, clearly annoyed, but Michael's tone left no room for argument. He gestured toward the couch. "Take a seat."

Sammy walked towards the couch, sat and crossed her legs with deliberate poise, settling like she owned the place. But she knew better. If Brian ordered it, Michael would throw her out without hesitation. His loyalty was absolute.

A knock echoed through the bedroom door, halting Brian's spiralling thoughts.

"Didn't I tell you to get lost?" Brian's voice thundered from inside, assuming Emma still lingered around.

Sammy blinked in surprise. The tone was feral, raw with rage and something else she couldn't quite place. She rose quietly, tiptoeing toward the slightly open door to listen in.

"It's me, Brian," Michael said, entering.

The room smelled faintly of sex, sweat and heavy emotion. The sheets were a mess, stained, and Brian sat slumped at the edge of the bed, wiping his face roughly with the back of his hand.

The tears of frustration ceased.

When he noticed Michael's gaze flicker toward the bed, Brian's jaw tightened. "Get out!" he snapped, voice cracking with shame.

Michael didn't move. He'd known Brian too long to take his tantrums seriously. "Sammy's here," he said calmly.

Brian's head turned slightly. "Did you see that girl on your way in?"

Michael nodded once.

"Good," Brian muttered bitterly. "Tell them I just raped her. Give her the role. I'm not attending the meeting." He dropped back on the bed, dragging the quilt halfway over himself and the blood stain as if covering it would erase the event that had transpired. His breaths came harsh and uneven.

Michael's expression darkened. "You're not a rapist, Brian," he said quietly but firmly.

Brian's bloodshot eyes snapped open. "Oh yeah? Did she smile at you when you saw her?" His voice cracked, the guilt leaking through. "Tell me, isn't it rape when she's crying and shaking like that? I thought she was moaning, damn it!"

Michael stepped closer. "Don't torture yourself. She just lost her virginity. That kind of reaction is… natural, especially without proper foreplay. You're meeting the girl only today, so I don't imagine you making love. It must have felt like casual sex until you found out about her chastity, according to my observation." he said carefully, trying to anchor him.

Beneath Brian's anger was the same broken innocence Michael had seen too many times before.

Brian exhaled shakily. "Fine. Give her the role. Just don't let me see her again unless it's on set.

Brian felt a bit lighter upon Micheal's analysis. He had indeed been on his own and she came to him.

Micheal felt relieved to see clarity in Brian's eyes but the issue still remains that Sammy Johnson is also here to demand the role. "Sammy is out…"

"Tell her to scram!" Brian roared before Michael could finish.

When Michael hesitated, Brian's temper flared again. He snatched the prop gun from the table and aimed it at him.

"That's a prop gun," Michael reminded him, unimpressed.

"Not when it has bullets," Brian hissed, reaching into the drawer for a case. But when he looked up again, Michael was already gone.

The gun clattered back to the table. Brian sat there, his anger deflating into confusion. If what Michael said was true if her tears were natural then maybe… maybe it wasn't rape.

The fearful part of him that wouldn't want to share the insanity of his father eased with relief.

But the thought brought no peace. Because even if he wasn't guilty of that crime, he still despised what had happened. He hated Emma. Hated that she'd made him lose control, that she'd traded something sacred for a role.

Fine. She could have it. If that was all it meant to her.

Outside, Michael found Sammy standing where he'd left her, pretending she hadn't been eavesdropping. She straightened quickly, brushing imaginary dust from her skirt.

Michael didn't bother with pretense. "I'm sure you heard everything. Please leave, he needs space."

Sammy's composure snapped. Fury burst from her like flames. "Are you serious? That girl fooled him! Some nobody crying her way into his bed, pretending to be a virgin, can't you see she acted for him? He's an artist too! How can he be so stupid?"

Michael walked to the door, opening it in silent invitation.

"Get the f*ck out!" Brian's voice echoed from inside, confirming the order. Sammy had been loud with her protest.

Sammy clenched her fists, trembling with disbelief. "You won't tell him his father wants me for the role?" she demanded.

Michael sighed, turning to her one last time. "That's their family's problem, not yours. Let him explain to his father why he chose someone else."

The words hit like a slap. Sammy's eyes darkened, but Michael didn't wait for a response. He simply stepped aside, waiting for her to leave.

"The role will be mine." She said with finality before striding out of the room in furious strides.

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