The opulent dining room of the Starlight Hotel had transformed from a celebratory space into an arena of tension. The air crackled with unspoken threats and simmering anger as Oliver, his face flushed with alcohol and rage, loomed over Elara.
"Come now, my dear," Oliver slurred, his breath reeking of expensive whiskey. "Let's have a drink together. Water under the bridge, yes? We wouldn't want this little... misunderstanding to affect anyone's career, would we?"
His eyes swept across the room, landing on each person in turn. The implied threat was clear, and a hushed silence fell over the gathered cast and crew. Careers hung in the balance, and no one dared to speak up.
Evie, standing protectively near Elara, felt her stomach twist with worry. She leaned in close, whispering urgently, "Elara, don't. The drink might be drugged. We should leave now."
