The evening traffic in Crestwood was relentless.

Elizabeth York didn't turn her phone back on until she reached the studio. She had been unable to locate the director and was forced to call the man.

His excitement was palpable the moment he saw Elizabeth.

Her appearance on his film set felt like a winning lottery ticket falling into his hands.

And she was doing it for a fraction of her usual rate! If he could just persuade her to show her face on camera, the profits would be astronomical.

He knew better than to push her too hard, though. He would wait until she grew comfortable, then slowly coax her into revealing more.

Feeling pleased, he was exceptionally warm and welcoming toward her.

"Alright, you can go change now," he instructed. "Just the towel when you come back out. Don't worry, it'll only be two cameramen and me in here. The rest of the crew will wait outside." Noticing her swollen eyes, he added reassuringly, "It's normal to feel shy and awkward the first time. Just follow my lead. Relax—with a body like yours, you don't need to do a thing. Just lie there, and men will go wild."

"Alright," Elizabeth replied stiffly.

Her tears weren't for the scene she was about to shoot, however. They were because of that phone call with Samantha.

Samantha's genuine concern had nearly shattered her resolve. She had almost confessed her desperation to her friend. She had almost turned around and never come...

Soon, a female assistant led Elizabeth to the dressing room, staring at her with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Elizabeth York was an A-list actress! Why was she doing something like this? And so soon after her career had been canceled? Maybe this was the reality for actresses—they couldn't survive without money.

She helped Elizabeth out of her clothes, leaving only a single towel wrapped tightly around her chest.

It took Elizabeth a long time to finally emerge from the changing room.

She never imagined she would sink to such depths of humiliation.

It was almost a rite of passage for many stars to take the casting couch on their way up. Even established A-listers sometimes succumbed to the promise of greater backing.

She bit her lip, thinking she was probably the only actress still a virgin while doing this. The irony was bitter.

Finally, she opened the door and stepped out.

The towel clung to her body, revealing nothing but her feet. It felt like a pointless gesture, given what was about to happen.

She walked toward the spotlights illuminating a large, plush bed.

The director gestured for her to lie down and remove the towel.

But her entire body trembled violently.

The director patiently coaxed her three times. Just as Elizabeth was about to surrender to the inevitable—

"Don't you f*cking dare, Elizabeth York!"