Chase let out a dismissive chuckle. "Impossible. How could I possibly fall for her? My dream girl is sweet and soft, not like that broad-sharp-tongued and always ready to rumble. I'd rather be a bachelor for life than fall for someone like her. You really don't get it, do you? Your marriage is a sham. Better call it quits now."

Roger couldn't help but laugh with exasperation, "Even a blind man could see you're head over heels for Sasha, and here you are playing dumb."

"You think you've figured it out?"

"Absolutely!"

Chase, with his carefree swagger, snapped back, "Dumb asshole!"

And with that, he hung up the phone without a second thought, leaving Roger cursing under his breath.

Pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it up, Chase wore a smirk that hinted at his stubborn denial.

There was no way he could have feelings for Sasha. He only looked after her for Clara's sake. Otherwise, he couldn't care less about her.

After reassuring himself of his indifference, Chase stepped out of his car with a roguish air and strolled into the clubhouse. Yet, almost against his will, his feet carried him toward the grand ballroom where Sasha was.

Passing by the restroom, he caught sight of Sasha in conversation with a burly man whose eyes held a lecherous glint. The man's hand crept around Sasha's waist in an overly familiar way.

A flame of anger ignited within Chase. He clenched his fists and strode urgently toward them.

Sasha, no stranger to the ways of their world, easily recognized the man's intentions. She gracefully stepped back with a polite smile. "Dexter, I need to greet the other actors. I'll be taking my leave now." As she moved to slip away, Dexter's grip tightened on her wrist, and his face twisted into a lecherous grin. "Sasha, I have a film starting soon, and it's missing a leading lady. How about you join me in my room to discuss the script?"

His insinuation couldn't be clearer. This was a casting couch proposition.

Sasha declined with a smile, "I'm sorry, Dexter, but I'd rather focus on my current project before I consider others. Perhaps you should ask someone else."

Dexter's face darkened instantly. "Don't play hard to get, Sasha. Believe me, one call from me, and you can kiss your career goodbye."

Sasha raised her chin defiantly. "I've never heard of being blacklisted for turning down your offers, Dexter. Or was there another implication in your invitation just now?"

Dexter sneered, "You should count yourself lucky that I'm even interested. Stick with me for three months, and you'll be a star. Otherwise, get lost. Your choice."

"That's a tempting offer," Sasha said, lips curled into a mocking smile. "But from day one, I swore I'd rather be an extra forever than compromise myself. You'll have to look elsewhere, Dexter." "Trying to leave? No one turns me down. Someone show Ms. Sasha upstairs to 'discuss the script."

As a well-dressed bouncer approached to escort Sasha, someone kicked him squarely in the abdomen, causing him to gasp in pain.

Whirling around, he saw Chase with a devilish smirk on his face. "Oops, slippery floor."

Chase stepped beside Sasha, pulling her close. "Sorry, Dexter, but my girlfriend's here for fun, not for fame. We're not interested in your kind offer. Now, if you'll excuse us."

With Sasha in tow, Chase moved to leave, but Dexter's sinister laugh echoed behind them. "Who the hell do you think you are to steal my woman? Do you have any idea who I am?"

Chase turned, shrugged nonchalantly, and said, "Who are you again? Enlighten me or scare me to death, why don't you?"

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