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Emerald Crowle opened the door to the backseat of a shiny, black Bentley. Before extending a long, lean leg out of the car, she turned to her driver, Jesse. “Thanks so much. I’ll see you at 5:00 am tomorrow.”
The driver kept his eyes on the front window, replying obediently, “Yes, of course, Ms. Crowle. I hope you have a lovely evening. I’ll be waiting at the gate by 4:45 am.”
“Perfect; I love your punctuality. Goodnight, Jesse.” Emerald slid out of the luxury vehicle, moving directly to the entrance of her Beverly Hills mansion. The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm glow upon the property of the grand estate. She was glad to be returning home before nightfall; luckily, her scenes in the upcoming movie had been scheduled in the early morning. But considering the stature of this world-famous actress, Emerald wouldn’t have had it any other way.
At this point in her career, Emerald Crowle called the shots. It was well-known that any director who wanted to work with her needed to concede to her schedule and preferences. But that was hardly an issue for anyone working in the Hollywood film industry; the 58-year-old actress controlled the box office, and if she starred in the leading role, the money would roll in. Her stunning beauty was the main attraction in any movie, and her longevity within the industry had cemented her as an icon.
Her patent-leather Louboutins click-clacked against the cobblestone pavement leading up to the front door. Before Emerald could reach for the doorknob, her housekeeper, Marilyn, greeted the actress. “Good evening, Ms. Crowle. How was your day? I’ve prepared your evening tonic; it’s waiting for you in the parlor.”
Every evening, Emerald enjoyed a cup of Jasmine Silver Needle tea, an expensive and rare blend containing anti-aging properties. She believed this ritual helped to maintain her glowing skin and youthful appearance. Based on the reviews of the thousands of adoring fans, the tea was working in her favor.
Marilyn Jefferies had worked for Emerald Crowle for over twenty-five years; she had been hired once Emerald first achieved success and fame as a Hollywood star. Marilyn had seen Emerald throughout all of the drama of her career, including her multiple marriages. She was a staple at the estate, and of all of the people who worked for Emerald, Marilyn was a grounding force who was considered family. No one was closer to the actress, not even her third husband, whom she was currently divorcing.
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Thanks, Marilyn. Did Rudy call?” Emerald was referring to her lawyer, Rudy Cohen. Mr. Cohen was the most high-profile lawyer in California, and his legal prowess was considered a threat within the courtroom. Rudy had represented Ms. Crowle in her previous divorces, so naturally, he was her only choice regarding her current split.
“Yes, Ms. Crowle, he did. I left the message on a notepad beside your drink. He knew you would be tired after being on set all day, so he asked if you could call him in the morning.” Marilyn helped Emerald out of her Mulberry silk coat as the actress set down her mandarin-colored Birkin purse.
She strolled down the hall, entering the parlor; this was her private sitting room for when Emerald sought solitude. Occasionally, Marilyn would host a formal afternoon tea for Emerald’s close friends, but generally, this was the place where Emerald could be alone with her thoughts. She sat in her favorite embroidered antique chair, illuminated by an overhead Tiffany lamp. Her tea was set off to the side on a marble table, and a notepad beside it.
Emerald looked at the scrawled notes Marilyn had transcribed from Mr. Cohen and smiled. It was just as she suspected; her prenuptial agreement was solid, and whatever claims her soon-to-be ex-husband made would never hold up in court. Breathing a sigh of relief, Emerald sank deeper into her seat, feeling satisfied and triumphant.
Ah, yes. Time to decompress,Emerald thought to herself. I suppose I should call Marty about changing the lines in my script. He knows I would never agree to such language.
The actress had struggled through the dialogue in her newest film, mainly because the text didn’t resonate with her. But Emerald knew she was no longer in a place where she needed to settle. She had paid her dues within the industry and could now be more selective. Moreover, given the respect that she has earned over the past thirty years, she was well within her right to request changes from her director.
She took a few delicate sips of her tea before turning on her private Smartphone to message the director the required edits. But as soon as the device powered up, Emerald noticed a string of new text messages, appearing one after another.Ding! Ding! Ding!
Emerald’s stomach sank.Fuck! It’s Thomas. Rudy must have contacted Thomas’s lawyer to tell him about the prenup. Oh no, this is bad.The actress took a deep breath, preparing herself for the tsunami of anger that her former husband had been known to unleash.While she didn’t want to read his texts, Emerald knew that the messages could serve as evidence in case she needed to take legal action. Her stomach lurched as she thought back to the past clues that hinted at Thomas’s temper, and Emerald chastised herself for not taking his erratic emotions seriously.
Emerald Crowle had met her third husband, Thomas Black, while preparing for a movie calledFire in Heaven. Emerald played an assassin, Angela, who was seeking revenge on the mobsters who murdered her father. The role was physically demanding, and her agent had introduced Emerald to an up-and-coming personal trainer in Hollywood.
Even though he was new to the industry, Thomas had already built a reputation as a tough, no-nonsense coach who had previously been in the Marines. While his client roster was small, demand for his classes quickly increased among actors who needed to get into serious shape. Emerald required top-tier contacts known for their excellence, so naturally, Emerald chose Thomas Black as her personal trainer.
Their fitness sessions were intense, and Thomas was both extreme in his methods and emotions. But Emerald failed to see the warning signs because she was focused on achieving physical superiority. But there was another aspect to Thomas that drew Emerald in, and that was his growing popularity as the new “golden boy” in Hollywood. The athletic trainer was very handsome, catching the eye of every female A-list celebrity. Thomas Black was a hot commodity at the time, making him a must-have for Emerald even though she was a lot older than he was.
Emerald knew exactly who to surround herself with to deflect any attention from her deepest secret; Emerald Crowle was a lesbian. She had spent many years expertly hiding this fact. It had been made clear to her in the early days of acting that coming out as gay would have killed her career. So, instead, Emerald surrounded herself with very attractive men, and as her success and fame grew, it was very easy for Emerald to snag a pretend husband. In fact, she was so good at it that she married twice before meeting Thomas Black.
Secretly, Emerald had taken many female lovers over the years. She only chose to sleep with women who weren't public about their sexual orientation throughout her 30 years in the film industry. This way, she trusted, they also had reasons to keep her secrets. Whenever she was done with her current husband, Emerald filed for divorce, knowing that her air-tight prenup would keep her safe from gold diggers. Split marriages were so common in her industry that it almost became a trend. And she was also aware that any man who was associated with her would receive instant fame himself. So Emerald justified her behavior because the arrangement was transactional for all involved.
However, unlike the more passive men that Emerald positioned herself with, Thomas Black was an incredible force. At his best, he was passionate and engaged, but his dark side was aggressive, unpredictable, and sometimes terrifying. At first, Emerald tried to ignore his growing agitation and emotional instability because, from the start, she was never emotionally involved.
But one evening, after Emerald had returned late from being onset, she came home to find the foyer of her mansion trashed with broken artifacts and clothing strewn about. Thomas was furious that Emerald wanted to break up with him. She would never forget the moment Thomas lurched towards her, punching a hole in a wall inches from her face. Emerald immediately called private security and filed for divorce the next day.
The months that followed had broken Emerald's spirit. She was constantly inundated with threats, with Thomas showing up unexpectedly on set. Finally, Emerald threatened to file a restraining order against Thomas, which seemed to calm the situation. It had been at least a month since she heard anything from him. But upon receiving his texts, Emerald knew that she was in trouble, especially because he was not legally entitled to any of her assets or wealth.
Swallowing hard, Emerald clicked on the first message.
You fucking bitch! You're going to pay for this! You haven't heard the last of my lawyer…or me!
With a trembling hand, Emerald tucked a piece of golden-blond hair over her ears and bit her lip. She took another deep inhale before opening the second message.
I hope you sleep well tonight, bitch. It would be a shame if someone was to sneak into your window and put a pillow over your face while you're sleeping. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about, though, right?!
“Jesus Christ, he has gone off the deep end,” she whispered to herself. Emerald was a strong and confident woman who was not easily intimidated. But Thomas was going too far.
I've been tracking your whereabouts. How's the new movie going? Do you like shooting at the Hillside Studios? I know you thought I wouldn't find out the location but guess what, bitch?! I'm fucking smarter than you. Maybe I'll make a surprise visit and blow the whole place up. How would you like that?
