The A-Lister’s Secret

I was secretly married to a superstar actress for nine years, and for nine years, her name was constantly linked to other men in the tabloids.
All the while, she left me to rot in the city's poorest district, the Warrens, without a second thought.
I spent a decade washing dishes in that slum. Then one day, she showed up, wanting to take me back.
"Victor," she said, "I told you, as soon as Julian was established in the industry, as soon as his confidence was strong enough, I'd bring you home."
"He just won Best Actor at the Golden Phoenix Awards. I'm here to keep my promise."
I raised my hands, swollen and cracked with chilblains, to shield my eyes from the blinding sunlight, and stared at the elegant, unfamiliar woman before me.
"I know you feel wronged," she continued, "but Julian is the junior I mentored, the one I watched grow up. He's timid. As his big brother figure, you should be willing to step aside for him."
"But you are still my husband. Come home with me, and I'll make it up to you."
She kept talking, instructing me that when I returned, I was to live in the basement and stay out of sight of the paparazzi.
I flicked the dishwater from my hands, cutting through her monologue.
"Ma'am," I said. "Who are you?"

1
My detached gaze seemed to freeze her in place. She blinked, then that familiar, weary smile returned to her lips.
"All this time in the Warrens, and your temper hasn't changed a bit." She chuckled softly. "I suppose that means you'll be able to handle Julian, even if I have spoiled him a little."
But her smile quickly faded, her expression turning serious. "Julian is a very sensitive soul. When we get back, you are forbidden from mentioning our relationship in front of him."
"From this day forward, you are my new personal bodyguard."
"You'll be responsible for his daily needs, reminding him to eat on time. But don't worry," she added, as if it were a great comfort, "in my heart, you and he are equally important."
Listening to this ludicrous speech, I finally placed her.
Sienna Moreau. My ex-wife.
Ten years. The woman I had once loved with every fiber of my being now felt like a complete stranger.
"Ms. Moreau," I said, my voice flat and devoid of emotion as I stared at her. "You abandoned me here for a decade. What makes you think I'd just wait around for you, playing the faithful husband?"
Sienna instinctively reached for me, but I stepped back, avoiding her touch.
"Don't be dramatic," she chided. "You loved me so much back then. You couldn't have moved on that quickly."
"Besides, you're thirty now. No education, no real job. Who would want you, other than me?"
"Even if some woman was attracted to your face, what kind of life could she offer you? Come back with me. At least I can guarantee you'll have a roof over your head and food on the table."
Her tone was so matter-of-fact, as if my worthlessness was a given.
After our secret wedding, she had given me a brief period of happiness. One day she was cuddling up to me, whispering promises of forever; the next, because her precious Julian threw a tantrum, she had me shipped off to the Warrens.
I had been the bedrock of her rise to fame, loved her to the bone, and was discarded without a second thought. I couldn't accept it. I had even begged her, humiliating myself. All I got in return was her impatience.
"Julian has depression," she'd said. "He can't handle any stress, and he relies on me. You're used to hardship anyway, so just stay here for a little while."
"You are, legally, my husband. I'll give you what you're owed, eventually."
"Once Julian is stable in his career, once he's mature enough, I'll come get you."
Those words had severed the last thread of hope I had for her. I just never imagined that Julian's "stabilization" would take ten years.
But I was no longer the naive boy who would debase himself for love. I had met someone who cherished me. I had built a new, warm life.
"Sienna," I said softly. "You're too late."
I lifted my left hand. On my ring finger, a simple wedding band gleamed in the sun. "I'm very happy now. I've already found the person I'm going to spend the rest of my life with."
Not long after I was exiled to the Warrens, I met the daughter of the city's wealthiest man, who was there doing charity work. She noticed me right away. I was in the middle of teaching a lesson to some young punks who were bullying an old man.
She walked up to me, a playful smile on her serene face. "You're good with your hands," she'd said. "Ever thought of being my bodyguard?"
And just like that, we got to know each other, and fell in love. When she learned about my past, she didn't hesitate to use her family's connections to help me legally dissolve that sham of a marriage.
"Victor, you always were too proud," Sienna scoffed, eyeing my ring. "Which flea market did you buy that piece of junk from?"
"Alright, alright," she said, her tone softening into a playful scold. "Stubborn men end up alone, you know."
"I know you still have me in your heart. Why else would you write me letters every week? I've read every single one."
I almost laughed out loud. Leaving aside the fact that those letters were undoubtedly from her legion of obsessive fans, had she never once suspected anything, given that the handwriting was different on every single one?
I did send her one letter when I first arrived in the Warrens. It contained nothing but a signed divorce petition. For whatever reason, it had vanished without a trace. I suspect someone deliberately cut off all contact between us.
"You waited ten long years for me," she said, her voice filled with a self-satisfied warmth. "You must be so excited that I'm finally here to take you home."
"I've been looking forward to this day for a long time, too."
"Julian's victory party is next week. After it's over, I'll come get you."
Old Man Chen, who ran the diner I worked at, had rushed out and was standing nearby, wanting to say something but unable to get a word in.
Sienna continued her monologue, instructing her assistant to unload gifts from the car. "And you, pull yourself together. Don't always look so shabby."
I glanced down at my comfortable, casual clothes. Shabby?
The luxury car outside purred away.
Chen finally let out a long sigh. "What's that superstar ex-wife of yours up to now? Does she really not know you're remarried?"
I went back to scrubbing the plate in my hands. "Let her be," I said calmly. "It doesn't matter anymore."
"Chen, give these gifts out to the neighbors. A little something to brighten their day."
I was only supposed to be stopping by today, just to visit the old neighbors who had been so kind to me. But after Chen insisted, I ended up staying for a few more days. It wasn't until later that I remembered the real reason for my trip.

2
When I was forced to leave all those years ago, I'd left behind a locket my parents had given me. It was still at Sienna's house.
I needed to get it back.
After all this time, I was genuinely surprised she still lived in the same villa. Even more surprised that the security code for the door was the same.
I pushed the door open and stepped into the familiar space. Sienna had bought this place with the money from her first big acting gig. It wasn't large, but it had once been filled with all our hopes and dreams. Before she became a megastar, we would curl up on the couch here, planning our future, talking about everything from the color of the wallpaper to the names of our future children.
Before I could get lost in the memories, Sienna emerged from the living room. Surprise flickered in her eyes, quickly replaced by a knowing smile.
"So impatient?" she purred, leaning against the doorframe. "Weren't you the one who'd supposedly found someone to spend your life with?"
"The party just ended, and I haven't even had a chance to come get you. And here you are. Still say you don't love me?"
It was laughable. When had she developed this god complex?
Not wanting to waste my breath, I tried to move past her to find the locket, but she blocked my path.
"Now that you're back, you could at least try to be a little sweet," she said, her eyes dropping to the simple canvas bag in my hand. "And how did security even let you in dressed like that?"
"What happened to the clothes I sent you? Dressed like this, people will think a beggar broke in."
Her arrogant dismissal was so absurd I had to laugh. "What I wear is my business. It's not for you to judge. Now move. I'm just here to get something."
My coldness clearly annoyed her. "So you're still mad that I took so long to come for you?"
"I already explained, I had to wait until Julian was stable. You're a grown man, why are you so petty?"
"You could learn a thing or two from him about being gracious."
"Sienna."
A low voice drifted from the bedroom. Julian, wrapped in a silk robe, appeared, an aura of pampered privilege radiating from him.
"This must be Victor, right?" he asked with a faint smile. "I hear you're the new bodyguard Sienna hired for me?"
"I have to ask, what skills do you bring to the table? You can't protect me without some serious talent, you know." He suddenly covered his mouth with his hand in a gesture of apology, but the taunt in his eyes was unmistakable. "Oh, I forgot you grew up in the Warrens. It must have taken a lot of work to get where you are today."
Every word was laced with condescending pity.
"I'm not your brother," I said flatly. "Don't get familiar with me."
I had no patience for their act. The study door was open, so I decided to head straight there. As I went to push past Julian, I barely touched him, but he let out a cry and stumbled backward, knocking over a vase in the entryway.
Sienna's face contorted with fury. She rushed to his side. "Julian!"
He leaned into her embrace, a shallow, bloody scratch now visible on his cheek.
Sienna looked up, her gaze like a shard of ice, fixing on me.
My stomach dropped. I instinctively tried to explain. "It wasn't me"
Before I could finish, a sharp sting exploded across my cheek. She had slapped me.
"Victor! Are you trying to say he threw himself on the floor just to frame you? He's an actor! Don't you understand how important his face is to his career?"
That slap shattered the last wisp of nostalgia I felt for this house, for her.
"Sienna, I started a new relationship eight years ago," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "I only came here today to retrieve something I left behind. My wife is wonderful, my life is wonderful, and I have no intention of ever coming back to you."
Sienna's face darkened completely. "Victor, do you take me for a fool?"
"Our marriage certificate is sitting on the nightstand in my bedroom right now. You started a new relationship? Who do you think you're kidding?"
I said nothing, just held her gaze. A flicker of panic crossed her stony face.
"Victor, stop this nonsense," she said, her voice a little less certain now. "Just apologize to Julian. This tantrum has gone on long enough."
She said the words, but a deep unease was creeping into her heart. The man she had discarded for a decade was now a stranger, and it terrified her.

3
Sienna was about to say more, but Julian let out a pained whimper from her arms. She immediately helped him toward the door. I stopped her with a cold voice.
"Wait." I pointed toward the study. "Where is the locket my parents left me?"
Sienna shot me an irritated glare. "In the safe, bottom shelf. The code is your birthday." She turned and left without another look back, helping Julian out the door while calling for an ambulance.
As she turned, Julian, leaning on her shoulder, shot me a triumphant, mocking smirk over her shoulder.
News of Julian's "accidental injury" immediately shot to the top of the trending topics. Photos showed him in a hospital bed, a bandage on his forehead, looking weak while Sienna dutifully peeled an apple for him.
The comment sections exploded.
"Who did this? Who hurt my Julian?!"
"I know it's bad, but they look so good together! Sienna stayed with him all night!"
I was oblivious to all of this. I found the locket and left quietly. But the next morning, two new headlines were trending on Twitter.
[BREAKING: SIENNA MOREAU AND JULIAN CROSS CONFIRMED TO BE LIVING TOGETHER!]
[SHOCKING: SIENNA'S BODYGUARD ATTACKS JULIAN OUT OF JEALOUS RAGE!]
I clicked on the hashtag. A series of paparazzi photos were going viral. One showed Sienna and Julian returning to her villa together after his awards party. Another was a shot of the security log showing my entry into the villa.
The comments were a frenzy.
"So it was this bodyguard who hurt Julian?"
"I heard he's been obsessed with Sienna for ten years! He got jealous when Julian won the award!"
"But this bodyguard is gorgeous! Would he really do something like that?"
As the debate raged, a new comment shot to the top.
"This guy worked for Sienna ten years ago and tried to assault her! After she fired him, he lived in the slums for a decade. She took pity on him and hired him back, and this is how he repays her!"
Attached was a private photo of Sienna and me from ten years ago. It was from a time when she was overworked and would come home late at night, using me to de-stress. In the photo, I was half-undressed. It was a moment that should have been for our eyes only.
Seeing the leaked photo and the false accusations, my face went black with rage. I called Sienna. She finally picked up on the fourth try.
"Sienna, was this you?" Who else could have had those photos?
There was a pause on the other end. Then, her voice, cold and firm. "Victor, this is the price you pay for hurting Julian."
Hearing her words, I laughed until tears streamed down my face. A price?
"Then what about the price he should pay for the ten years I spent in the Warrens because of him?"
"Victor!" she snapped, cutting me off. "Must you be so petty about everything?!"
"I don't want this to escalate any further. Apologize to Julian immediately. I'll have him release a statement forgiving you, and we can put this behind us."
Put this behind us? She said it so casually, as if the damage to my reputation was nothing compared to a scratch on Julian's face.
I clenched my jaw, trying to stay calm. As I was about to speak, I heard her assistant's voice in the background. "Ms. Moreau, Mr. Cross is awake and asking for you."
"I'm on my way," Sienna said quickly. When I looked at my phone again, the call had been disconnected.
Sienna hurried towards Julian's room. Halfway there, she stopped and turned to her assistant. "That white agarwood bracelet the brand sent over last week, do we have it?"
The assistant nodded eagerly.
"Have it sent to Victor. Agarwood is his favorite."
Sienna knew me too well. She knew I had a proud streak. Forcing me to bow my head to Julian would be a humiliation. But in her mind, if you do the crime, you do the time.
And besides, I had always been easy to placate. In the past, whenever I was angry, a small gift was all it took to win me over. She assumed this time would be no different.

4
"Oh, and the matching pendant," Sienna added, "give that to Julian."
The bracelet arrived just as I was watching Julian's live hospital interview. He was propped up in bed, Sienna tenderly adjusting his pillow.
A reporter asked, "Mr. Cross, about the recent rumors, is it true that Victor attacked you out of jealousy?"
Julian gave a weak smile. "It's not his fault. Sienna is an incredible woman, she has a lot of devoted fans..."
The reporter immediately jumped on it. "So the rumors are true? This Victor is a monster! I hope all of your fans will make him pay for this!"
Julian simply smiled and let his eyes drift closed, feigning exhaustion. The reporter noticed the wooden pendant around his neck. "That agarwood pendant is beautiful! It's from the new collection at L'Arome, isn't it? I heard there's a matching bracelet!"
Julian looked at Sienna with eyes full of affection. The reporter understood instantly. "So the rumors about you two being a couple are true?!"
Sienna simply smiled, a silent confirmation.
I turned off the livestream and stared at the exquisite agarwood bracelet on my table.
I knew that one word to Clara would make this entire storm disappear. But I didn't want to trouble her. More than that, I wanted to show Sienna that I was no longer the soft-hearted fool who would clear her path and let her walk all over me.
When Sienna had bought the villa, the deed was put in my name. The property management system had a complete record of the ownership history. I contacted several media outlets that were direct competitors of Sienna's and had them release a joint statement.
"The legal owner of this villa has always been Mr. Victor Vance."
"It appears he was forced out years ago by Sienna Moreau and Julian Cross, only to be brought back and mislabeled as a 'bodyguard'."
"Is a security log of him entering his own home enough to convict him of assault? This is a gross miscarriage of justice."
"There is more to this story. We call for an immediate end to the online harassment of a private citizen."
At the same time, I released a formal statement from a newly created Twitter account. The tide of public opinion began to turn. But then, to my utter shock, Sienna herself responded.
"Years ago, I saw that he was homeless but a diligent worker, so I gifted him the villa. I never imagined he would harbor such delusions and repeatedly overstep his boundaries. And now, he has attacked an innocent person!"
Attached was a bank transfer record from the time of the purchase. The payer's name was clearly listed as Sienna Moreau.
In that moment, I felt the blood drain from my face. Her initial payment hadn't been enough to cover the full price. To give her a home, I had secretly gone to the realtor and paid the majority of it with the inheritance my parents left me.
I remember her holding me, her eyes red with tears. "Victor, that was everything your parents left you, how could you"
Now, that act of love had become the knife she plunged into my heart.
Chen was shaking with rage when he heard. "The marriage certificate! Where is it? Show it to everyone, let them see the truth!"
"She has it," I said quietly. She had insisted on keeping all our official documents, worried they'd be found by the paparazzi.
Chen fell silent. After a long moment, he asked softly, "Victor were you two really in love when you got married?"
I managed a bitter smile. Just then, my phone lit up. A message from Clara.
"Do you need me to step in?"
She knew.
"No," I typed back. "I'll handle this myself."
I put my phone away and handed a prepared file to a waiting reporter. "Please publish all of it."

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