Acting The Part

Chapter 24: Caleb

I woke up in the middle of the night, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. Megan was still asleep, curled up against me, her breathing soft and even. I ran my fingers through her hair, the events of the day replaying in my mind like a broken record.

I couldn't sleep. Not after what had happened. Not after the way that bastard had treated her.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face, saw the way he had sneered at her, belittled her. And then I saw my fist connecting with his jaw, felt the satisfying crack of bone beneath my knuckles.

But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

I slid out of bed carefully, trying not to wake her, and made my way into the living room. The silence of the house felt suffocating, and I turned on the TV, hoping to distract myself from the thoughts swirling in my head.

The entertainment news was on, and my stomach twisted when I saw the headline plastered across the screen: "Caleb Drake Assaults Director Noah Rodriguez on Set—Shocking Footage Emerges!"

Fuck.

There it was—footage of me beating the shit out of King, going viral for the whole world to see. The video was grainy, probably taken on someone's phone, but it was clear enough.

I watched as I lunged at him, my fist colliding with his face, over and over. They replayed the clip several times, and each time, my anger flared all over again.

Megan.

I did it for her.

But now, I have to face the consequences.

I heard a soft gasp behind me, and I turned to see Megan standing in the doorway, her eyes wide as she stared at the screen. "Oh my God," she whispered, her face pale. "Caleb... what are we going to do?"

I turned off the TV and faced her, trying to keep my expression calm. "It's going to be fine," I said, though I wasn't entirely sure I believed it myself. "This isn't going to hurt my reputation."

"But—" She stepped closer, her hands wringing together nervously. "What if it does? What if people start saying horrible things about you? What if—"

"They already do," I interrupted, my voice steady. "People have been calling me a lot of things for a long time. A violent maniac won't be the worst of it."

She looked at me skeptically, her brow furrowing in concern. I could see the fear in her eyes, the worry for me, for us. She didn't buy my calm act. I wasn't sure I did either.

Before I could say anything else, my phone buzzed on the coffee table, and I picked it up without thinking. The name on the screen made my stomach drop.

Grandfather.

I answered it, already bracing for the inevitable storm. "Caleb," my grandfather's voice boomed through the speaker, filled with anger and disappointment. "What the hell have you done?"

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my voice steady. "I handled it."

"Handled it?" he scoffed, and I could practically hear him pacing on the other end of the line. "You assaulted a director on set. In front of witnesses. Do you have any idea how this is going to affect our family? Our business?"

I glanced at Megan, who was watching me anxiously, her eyes wide with worry. I didn't want her to hear this, but there was no avoiding it now. "I had to do something," I said, my voice firm. "He was harassing Megan."

There was a brief pause on the other end, and when my grandfather spoke again, his voice was low and dangerous. "So, do you think that gives you the right to act like a thug? Do you think you can just throw punches whenever someone insults your so-called fiancee?"

"No," I said, my temper flaring again. "But I won't stand by and let someone treat my fiancée like she's nothing. I won't let anyone covet her."

There was another pause, and I could hear my grandfather breathing heavily on the other end, clearly trying to rein in his temper. "You're coming to the estate. Now. We need to talk. Bring that woman."

The line went dead before I could respond, and I let out a low growl of frustration, tossing the phone onto the table.

"What did he say?" Megan asked, her voice soft, hesitant.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "He wants us to go to the estate. Now."

Her eyes widened. "Now? But it's the middle of the night."

"I know," I muttered, grabbing my jacket from the back of the chair. "But when he calls, we go."

Megan looked nervous, her hands twisting in front of her as she bit her lip. "What does he want?"

I shrugged, though I had a pretty good idea. "To yell at me, probably. He doesn't like it when I make waves."

She swallowed hard, her eyes flicking toward the door. "I'm not ready for this, Caleb. I don't know what to say to your grandfather."

I stepped forward, taking her hands in mine. "Just be yourself. That's all you need to do."

She nodded, but I could see the fear in her eyes. She wasn't ready for this. Hell, I wasn't sure I was either. But there was no turning back now.

We drove in silence, the tension thick between us as we made our way to the estate. By the time we pulled up in front of the massive mansion, Megan was practically trembling beside me.

I reached over, squeezing her hand. "You've got this," I whispered, trying to reassure her, though I wasn't sure how much comfort I could offer. "Just follow my lead."

She nodded, her eyes wide as we stepped out of the car. The mansion loomed above us, dark and imposing, and I could feel the weight of what was about to happen pressing down on both of us.

God, I hoped we were ready for this.