Cicely might not have been the sharpest tool in the shed, but even she could tell what was going on. At first, they had sweet-talked her into being a stand-in, and now, after a single phone call, they'd done a 180. It was obvious someone had put the squeeze on the director. Now, with Charlie standing there, it wasn't hard to guess who had been applying the pressure.

Cicely weighed whether to take the money. To accept it felt like selling out, but would pride help her son's failing eyesight?

"Forget it. I'll take the initial deal we agreed on - five times the rate. And I'll shoot this scene for you."

Worst case scenario, she could just hustle to land Crysti some more endorsements or publicity gigs. The director and Charlie exchanged glances, both aware this wasn't going to be easy.

"Charlie, what are you doing here?" Danielle's puzzled voice made Charlie feel even more cornered.d2

"Ms. Danielle, I... Mr. Diaz sent me to check on the progress. We can't afford any more delays with this film."

Danielle's heart skipped a beat. Clearly, Seth must have caught wind of the buzz online, probably knew about her stalling tactics, which would explain why the director had been riding her hard to keep things moving the past few days.

But still...

"The thing is that I've injured my leg. I won't be able to shoot my scenes, so that's why we brought in a stand-in - to avoid any delays. Why won't you let her shoot?"

Charlie pursed his lips, pondering for a second. "Mr. Diaz holds this project in high regard and plans to push for awards. Naturally, he doesn't want an amateur ruining it. Besides, if word gets out you used a stand-in, it wouldn't look good for you."

He didn't mention Cicely directly, which made Danielle breathe a sigh of relief. She was in a bind. "But in my current condition..."

"Don't worry. Your injury is serious. If we have to delay a few days, so be it."

Cicely found the whole thing laughable. She was clearly a secret. They didn't want her as a stand-in, so they showered Danielle with compliments in front of everyone. Indeed, only that way would others, and Danielle herself, be more persuaded.

It was perfectly normal for Seth to openly favor Danielle. Seth couldn't very well say he was likely protecting a woman he was keeping on the down-low.

Besides, it could very well be just what Charlie said. Cicely wasn't professional enough, he feared she'd ruin his film, and it might damage Danielle's reputation.

Danielle, pleased, glanced at Cicely before asking Charlie, "Is Seth heading back home or to the office now?"

"I'm not sure..."

Charlie glanced at Cicely, who was fiddling with her clothes, paused, and then added, "He might even drop by here."

No sooner had Charlie finished speaking than the sound of a car door closing echoed in the distance, followed by one of Danielle's assistants exclaiming with glee, "Mr. Diaz is here!"

Cicely's brow twitched, and Charlie's scalp tightened. He quickly signaled the director with his eyes.

The director caught on and quickly spoke up, "I'll pay you. Tenfold. So please, come down from the wire rig. This scene is both exhausting and dangerous."

Cicely glanced at the cliffside nearby, biting her lip. To simply take the money at ten times the rate felt like a major score.

"Alright, transfer the funds to my account first."

"Absolutely! Doing it right now!"

As Mr. Diaz approached, the director's voice trembled.

Cicely remained silent, undoing the wire rig attached to her. Seth strode forward, his tall and lean figure wrapped in an expensive suit that exuded elegance and a chilling nobility. His dark, untroubled eyes seemed to focus directly on Cicely.

Danielle tensed up and, on instinct, glanced at Cicely. After a moment's thought, Danielle stepped in front of Cicely and said to the director, "If we're in such a rush, I should do the scene." The director frowned, "But your knee injury..."

"It's fine."

Seth stopped in front of them, his towering height not preventing Cicely from his view.

"Seth, you're here." Danielle approached with a smile, and only then did Seth's gaze shift from Cicely to the director.

"What's she doing?"

The director's legs went weak. "This..."

Danielle quickly chimed in, "It's me. I got hurt while shooting, and the director didn't want to delay the schedule. Since Cicely here looks a bit like me, he thought of using her as my stand-in." "Your stand-in?"

Seth gave her a sharp look, and Danielle suddenly felt a wash of shame. "Yes, but I've thought it over. Cicely is not a professional actress. It's better if I do it."

Seth looked at Cicely again, "You're told to act, and you just do it? Don't you know your own worth?"

Everyone's gaze shifted to Cicely. She paused, frowned at Seth, and retorted, "Seems Mr. Diaz is quite aware of my worth?"

Silence fell, and Cicely, realizing something was amiss, hurriedly unfastened the other shoulder strap.

Danielle, biting her lip, insisted, "Seth, I said I'd do it."

"Cicely." Seth's eyes stayed on her as he spoke again, disregarding Danielle's words. "Step back a bit. Don't just stand there."

Confused, the onlookers looked at Cicely, realizing she was on the edge of the cliff. Seth was warning her, or rather, he didn't want her to fall.

Danielle's face went pale. In a panic, she stumbled backward, straight into Cicely, who was caught off guard.

Cicely swayed, her face stiffening and paling instantly, and in a heart-stopping moment, she fell over the cliff's edge.

Danielle barely registered what she had collided with when, just as she was about to turn and see, an unseen force propelled her sideways, sending her crashing onto the ground, knees first, the gritty asphalt scraping skin with searing pain.

Panic ensued, screams piercing the air. There, kneeling on the ground, was Seth, his left hand clinging to the cliff's edge, his right gripping Cicely's delicate wrist.

Cicely looked as white as a sheet. She had managed to remove half of her harness. She was frantically working on the rest, not knowing how close she was to getting it off. Perhaps any second now, it would suddenly...

With a sudden "snap," the buckle on her left shoulder broke free, and her body lurched downward.

The grip on her arm tightened. Looking up, she saw the strain on Seth's face, the veins standing out sharply against his skin.

She bit her lip, glanced down the cliff, estimating the fall. Hitting the water might leave her with a fighting chance to survive, but if she struck the jagged rocks just below...

Cicely found her own morbid humor wildly out of place, but tears were not an option at the moment.

"Don't look down!" Seth's voice exploded above her. She glanced up to see a fresh trail of blood on her wrist, oozing from beneath Seth's sleeve.

She frowned and averted her gaze.

Charlie was standing at the cliff's edge.

In reality, with no guardrails around, a rescue attempt meant lying prone at the cliff's edge like Seth. Those wishing to help had no choice but to support Seth, but Seth was in the most efficient position to exert force. Any shift could result in a loss of strength.

Charlie knelt, eager to assist. "Mr. Diaz."

"Back off!" Seth's voice was taut, a clear sign of his exertion. He wouldn't allow even a fraction of his strength to slip away now.

Charlie nodded and stood back.

The director was fraught with worry as the harness came fully undone, useless now. He began directing others to help, only for Charlie to intervene.

"We don't need help."

"Charlie, this is a matter of life and death."

Charlie shook his head, witnessing Seth gradually haul Cicely's body up.

"Not today. With anyone else, perhaps this will be a life-and-death scenario, but this is Ms. Cicely."

Because it was Ms. Cicely, Mr. Diaz wouldn't let anything happen to her..

Because it was Cicely, for Seth, there was only survival, no death. He trusted no one to will her alive as fiercely as he did.

Chaos reigned, yet through the crowd, Danielle could still hear Charlie's words.

Only when Seth had pulled Cicely's upper body to safety did Charlie step forward, helping to pull her fully onto solid ground. Though the cliff's edge had been smoothed to remove sharp edges, scrapes from the fall and the rescue were inevitable.

Cicely felt pain everywhere, the shock of nearly plummeting not yet faded. She slumped to the ground, hands trembling over her chest, her mind a void.

Seth still clutched Cicely, "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Cicely was still in shock.

"Talk to me!" His voice, low and laced with irritation, snapped Cicely back to reality. She glanced at her wrist, still tightly bound in his bloodied grip, and shook her head, face pale.

Seth, not convinced, peeled back her sun-shirt to reveal a slender arm streaked with abrasions, then stood up abruptly. "Charlie, get the car."

"On it."

Charlie's response was swift as Seth scooped Cicely into his arms again.

The onlookers parted with surprise, making way.

The director glanced at Danielle, still sitting dazed on the ground. Then, he walked to Seth. "Mr. Diaz, the scene..."

"Continue."

Seth, holding Cicely, took a few quick steps, then added, "Today, we finish this scene. I don't want to come back here."

"Absolutely."

The subtext was clear to all.

He didn't want to return? How often did he grace the set? It was all to spare Crysti's agent the pain of revisiting this place.

The director nodded in agreement.

It wasn't until Seth and Cicely were in the car that Danielle was helped to her feet by assistants. Seeing the wounds on Danielle, they were too frightened to speak.

As Seth's car pulled away, the director finally exhaled. He urged everyone to resume filming.

The assistants' tone was less abrasive now, but they still warned, "Director, Danielle's worse off than before, she might not be able to shoot."

"Didn't you hear Mr. Diaz? We're finishing this side of the shoot today. Is that clear?"

Danielle remained in a trance, as if her soul had been scattered by the wind. Upon hearing the director's words, her eyes blinked.

What did it mean? She was injured, and Seth hadn't noticed. Were his eyes and heart filled only with Cicely?

Or did it mean that even if she was hurt, it was irrelevant, that for Cicely's sake, or simply to keep on schedule, she had to endure, no matter the pain? Was that it? Or had she misunderstood something?

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