The air in the house felt heavier than usual. Liam sat across from Celeste at the kitchen table, his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. Celeste's heart pounded as she watched him wrestle with the truth she had just revealed.
"So let me get this straight," he said finally, his voice low and deliberate. "You've been part of some… some cult for years? And all of this—your fame, your career, the life we've built together—it's because of them?"
Celeste nodded, her throat dry. "I didn't want this, Liam. It started as survival, as something I thought I could control. But once I was in, there was no way out."
Liam ran a hand through his hair, standing abruptly and pacing the room. "And you've kept this from me all this time? You let me fall in love with you, marry you—build a life with you—and never thought I deserved to know the truth?"
Tears welled up in Celeste's eyes. "I did it to protect you. To protect us. And I didn't think it would ever touch this part of my life. But I can't keep lying to you."
Liam stopped and turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "I need time," he said quietly. "I need to think about all of this."
Celeste nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Take all the time you need."
For the next few weeks, the house felt unbearably empty. Liam had gone back to his family's estate in Dublin, leaving Celeste to wrestle with her guilt and loneliness. She poured herself into work, trying to distract herself from the gaping hole his absence left in her life.
But the distractions didn't last long.
Her fame had always been overwhelming, but lately, it had become unmanageable. Every time she stepped outside, crowds swarmed her like moths to a flame. Paparazzi followed her relentlessly, and fans camped outside her estate gates for days on end.
It wasn't just admiration anymore—it was obsession.
Marco, Zion, and Rollan had been assigned to her as personal security by her team after a fan broke into her mansion grounds. They were professionals, each with years of experience, but even they seemed unnerved by the intensity of her fame.
"You've got people climbing fences, bribing staff, pretending to be delivery drivers," Marco told her one morning as they reviewed the latest security footage. "This isn't just celebrity fandom anymore. This is… something else."
Celeste nodded, her stomach churning. She knew he was right. Her fame had taken on a life of its own, and it was becoming harder to control.
Her sister Rollie, too, was feeling the effects of the spotlight. Though still early in her career, Rollie had begun to rise as a "second coming" of Celeste. Her angelic voice and natural charisma captured the public's heart, and their connection as siblings made the world even more invested in their every move. It wasn't long before Rollie needed the same level of security as Celeste.
One afternoon, as Celeste returned home from a recording session, she found Eleanor Vaughn waiting for her in the living room.
"I figured you'd come," Celeste said, dropping her purse on the counter.
Eleanor smiled, her presence as commanding as ever. "You didn't think you could make such a bold move without consequences, did you?"
Celeste clenched her jaw. "I've done everything you asked. I've paid every price. What more do you want from me?"
Eleanor tilted her head, her green eyes gleaming. "This isn't about what I want, darling. This is about balance. Your fame, your power—it's spiraling because you're not feeding the way you used to. The energy is building up, and if you don't manage it, it will destroy you."
Celeste's stomach dropped. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying it's time to make another choice," Eleanor said, stepping closer. "You've reached heights no one else has, but if you want to maintain that, you need to embrace what you are. Fully."
Her name hung in the air, as familiar as her own shadow. Eleanor Vaughn. The woman who had started it all.
The next few days passed in a blur. Celeste avoided Marco, Zion, and Rollan, unable to face their questions about why she looked so pale and distracted. She barely ate, barely slept, consumed by the weight of Eleanor's words.
One night, she stood at the window, looking out at the throngs of fans camped outside her gates. Their faces blurred together, but she could feel their energy, their adoration, their desperation.
She had sacrificed so much to get here. But at what cost?
When her phone buzzed, she nearly jumped. It was a text from Liam.
"I'm ready to talk. Let me know when you're free."
Celeste stared at the screen, her heart aching. She wanted nothing more than to run into his arms, to confess everything, to let him save her.
But deep down, she knew this was a battle she had to fight on her own.
The chapter ends with Celeste standing in the middle of her grand, empty home, feeling the weight of her choices pressing down on her. The Circle was right about one thing: the power she had gained was intoxicating. But it was also a curse.
And now, as she prepared to face the next chapter of her life, she knew that the greatest sacrifices were yet to come.