Dinner concluded without lingering farewells. William first escorted James home to his nanny before returning to the vehicle to take Elise home. "You really didn't need to go to all this trouble, Mr. Levine. I could have easily taken a cab," Elise stated politely. "It's no inconvenience," William replied evenly. "I'm not the one driving, anyway." His chauffeur shifted slightly, feeling a sudden urge to become invisible. Elise found she had no further argument.

The drive back to Crestwood Heights was enveloped in silence.

As the car stopped, Elise opened her door, her movements slow and cumbersome with the crutches. Naturally, William circled the car just as she was attempting to get out. He offered his arm in a gentlemanly manner. She accepted the help, her voice soft. "Thank you." "You're welcome," he said, steadying her as she found her footing.

She began her limping progress toward the building but suddenly halted. Turning, she met his gaze directly. "Mr. Levine." "Yes?" "What they said about me... it was all true." Her voice was so quiet it was impossible to discern her emotion. "Yes?" he prompted again. "I got pregnant at eighteen. I had a child out of wedlock—mmph!" Her eyes flew wide in shock.

William had closed the distance between them in an instant. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her close, and his lips captured hers in a sudden, decisive kiss.

She was too stunned to resist.

All she could register was the unfamiliar, startling warmth of his mouth on hers, a sensation that seemed to be intensifying, spreading heat through her veins.

With a jolt, Elise shoved him away, reality crashing back. Her cheeks were flaming. Was it humiliation or fury? Perhaps both. "I thought you said you weren't that kind of man!" she exclaimed, breathless. "I felt a demonstration was necessary to prove I don't mind, Ms. Scott," he replied, his composure utterly unshaken, no trace of embarrassment on his features.

"You didn't need to demonstrate! You could have just used your mouth!" she cried out, indignant. Realizing her poor phrasing, she quickly corrected herself, "I mean, you could have used words!" A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched William's lips under the glow of the streetlights. It was a devastatingly handsome sight, one that could captivate anyone. "I was concerned you might doubt my sincerity," he said smoothly.

"I don't doubt you..." "Good," he cut her off. Elise glared at him, feeling thoroughly outmaneuvered and tricked. "Since you believe me now, Ms. Scott, there's no need to use such things as excuses to push me away." She stared at him, incredulous. How could he dismiss her past so casually, calling it an 'excuse'? Any man would care. Samuel certainly had.

William gave her a polite, almost formal nod. "It's late, Ms. Scott. Good night." With that, he turned and walked back to his opulent Maybach. The car pulled away swiftly, disappearing into the night. Elise bit her lip, the phantom pressure of his kiss still lingering. No matter how she rationalized it, it felt like William had just claimed a clear victory.

She took a deep, steadying breath. Best to just pretend she'd been bitten by a dog.

…

Inside the departing car, William's phone vibrated. He answered to hear Nathan Davis's complaining voice. "Damn it, Will! You dine alone at my family's place and stand me up? Again? And I heard you had my staff throw out other patrons! Don't you feel even a little bit sorry for me?" "My thanks," William said, his tone flat. "Oh, save it. My manager mentioned you weren't alone. You were with a woman?" "Yes." "Is the sun rising in the west?!" Nathan cried, shocked. "And here I thought little James was manufactured in a lab." William remained silent. "So? When do I get an introduction? I'm dying to meet the woman who can thaw that frozen heart of yours." "She hasn't agreed to date me yet." "What?!" Nathan's exclamation was even louder. "Now I'm really curious!" "I have to go. Work call." "Oh, shi—" William ended the call before Nathan could finish, connecting the other line. "Mr. Levine? It's about the TV series sponsorship. Amanda Mitchell is confirmed as the female lead," Samuel Wilson reported. "The project is under our subsidiary, Windmill Studios. Filming begins next week." "Replace her," William instructed. "Is... is that advisable, sir?" Samuel asked, his voice laced with awkwardness. "Is there a problem?" "No, sir. Right away, sir," Samuel said quickly, not daring another word. The Mitchells had no one to blame but themselves for crossing his boss.

…

At Mitchell Manor, Amanda was in a rage the moment she stormed through the door. The more she thought about it, the more infuriated she became. She was the daughter of a prominent family and a celebrated actress! If word got out that she'd been publicly ejected from a restaurant, the humiliation would be unbearable!

Samuel was lounging on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. He glanced at her. "What's your problem now?" Their parents, Richard and Jennifer Mitchell, also turned their attention to her. Amanda launched into a dramatic retelling of the evening, naturally embellishing the part where Elise showed up with a man in tow.

Samuel's expression grew darker with every word. "I always said that Elise Scott was trouble. To think we almost let her ruin our family..." Jennifer sniffed disdainfully, showing no gratitude for Elise's past role in saving their business. "Wait, you said you were at Davis Bistro?" Richard interrupted, thoughtful. "Yes. It's exclusive, keeps the paparazzi out. That's why I met Sophia there." "That's owned by the Davis family, isn't it?" Richard sounded puzzled. "I wasn't aware of any business conflict with them..." "The Davis family? You mean Nathan Davis's family?!" Amanda exclaimed, a realization dawning. "He must be trying to get back at me for rejecting him in high school! How pathetically childish!"

With that explanation, Richard dismissed the incident as petty drama among the younger generation and thought no more of it. Amanda's mood improved considerably. She decided Nathan must still be hung up on her, orchestrating this to get her attention. While his methods had certainly become more bold, her resolve was firm—if she didn't want him then, she certainly didn't want him now!

Her phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. Seeing it was her manager, she snapped impatiently, "Stop calling me every day! I know the script inside and out!" In truth, she hadn't read a single page of the script she'd received over two weeks ago. Her manager, however, ignored her tone. "Amanda, what did you do? The production office just called. They're recasting your role!"