The Price of His Oscar

The news broke on a Tuesday, splashed across every screen like a chemical spill. Oscar Winner Liam Carter: Secret Wife and Child Revealed.

My first call was to my daughter. “Did you two have a baby without telling me?”

The voice on the other end was a shattered wreck. “Mom,” she sobbed, each word a painful gasp. “I want a divorce.”

1

By the time I arrived at Claire’s penthouse, the place looked like it had been ransacked by a storm. The housekeeper had wisely locked herself in her room, a silent refusal to be caught in the crossfire. No one was cleaning this up.

Liam was sitting on the sofa, his handsome face a blank mask, watching my daughter destroy their life together.

Claire was hysterical. “Nine years, Liam! We’ve been together for nine years! Since you were a nobody waiting tables, I was there. I told you to chase your dream, and I paid the bills while you did.”

She gestured wildly around the opulent room. “My own mother refused to even meet you for three years. I fought with her, I starved myself, I tried to kill myself twice just to make her accept you. And when she finally did? She bankrolled your career. She opened every door.”

Her voice cracked, raw with betrayal. “The TV shows, the movies, that awful pop album you wanted to make… what have you ever wanted that my family didn't hand you on a silver platter? How do you think you got that Oscar, Liam? Do you have any idea?”

The dam of her rage finally broke. She sagged against the wall, the fight draining out of her, leaving only ragged sobs.

Liam finally moved, rubbing a hand over his face. “Claire, just let me explain. I swear, it was just that one time. I was drunk, I was stupid… it was a mistake.” He glanced at me, then back at her. “She wouldn't… she refused to get rid of the baby. What was I supposed to do?”

I let the sound of my heels clicking on the marble floor announce my presence. I dropped my Birkin on the table with a thud and fixed him with a cold stare. “Talk. Now.”

Claire collapsed into my arms, weeping. I held her for a moment, stroking her hair, then guided her toward her bedroom. “Go lie down, darling. I’ll handle this.”

Once she was gone, Liam’s composure crumbled. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a pathetic sort of guilt. “Eleanor… I’m so sorry.”

The story tumbled out of him, as predictable as it was sordid. It happened a little over a year ago, the night he won the Oscar. The entire studio celebrated until dawn. Claire was in London at the time, finishing her doctoral thesis, and they hadn't seen each other in months. The combination of champagne, adrenaline, and loneliness, he claimed, led him into a "moment of madness" with his agent, Anya Reed.

He said he’d been terrified of it coming out. He gave Anya a substantial sum to leave the agency and disappear. He thought that was the end of it. But she was already pregnant. She had the child in secret and then, a few months ago, reappeared, baby in tow, spinning a tale of a helpless single mother.

Out of some misplaced sense of obligation to the child, Liam had been supporting them in secret ever since. The whole thing blew up a few nights ago when the baby developed a fever so high it triggered a seizure. He was rushed to the hospital. Liam, worried, snuck in for a visit. That’s when the paparazzi caught him. The photographer, a man named Vince Ray who ran a sleazy gossip site, had a personal vendetta against Liam after being publicly humiliated by him years ago. Ray didn’t even bother trying to negotiate a payout; he just ran the story.

I listened to the entire pathetic saga without interruption. When he finished, I simply nodded. “Fine. My assistant will draw up the divorce papers. You and Claire are done.”

To my surprise, Liam’s face crumpled. “No, Eleanor, please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “I never wanted to divorce Claire. I love her. I truly love her.”

2

A celebrated actor, Hollywood’s golden boy, adored by millions. And this is what he amounted to.

I’ve always known the entertainment industry is a sewer. That’s why, when Claire first brought Liam home, I vetted him for five years before I allowed them to get married. Even then, my instincts screamed caution. I insisted they keep the marriage quiet, terrified of a day just like this, a day my daughter would be turned into a public spectacle, a laughingstock.

Claire was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. For thirty years, she’s been coddled and cherished, her path through life paved with gold. But a flower raised in a greenhouse is fragile, and hers had grown a hopelessly romantic heart. You could say Liam Carter was the only storm she had ever known.

And now, the secret marriage was out. Only the wife in the picture wasn’t my daughter.

Claire, who had apparently been listening from her room, burst out, her face swollen with tears. “Mom…”

“I told you from the beginning he wasn't right for you,” I said, struggling to keep my voice even. “You complained that the heirs I introduced you to were shallow. You said my world, the world of business, was soulless. Well, now you see. The entertainment industry is just a playground for capital. Did you really think their morals ran any deeper?”

She bit her lip, her eyes flashing with a familiar, stubborn resentment.

Liam seized the opening. “That’s not true, Eleanor. This was an accident. My feelings for Claire have never changed.” He wrung his hands. “It’s just… the child is innocent in all of this. That’s why I didn't know what to do…”

I held up a hand, cutting him off. “I don’t care about your process. I only care about results.”

Just then, the doorbell chimed through the apartment.

This was a high-security building in a gated community. Unannounced visitors were impossible.

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