The private room of the luxury hotel radiated an air of understated elegance, its golden lighting reflecting off polished mahogany furniture. Elara sat across from Isla, her fingers loosely wrapped around a cup of untouched tea. The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only sound for a moment as Isla studied her friend, her sharp green eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and determination.

“So, you’re really serious about focusing on your career now?” Isla asked casually, leaning back in her seat, her expression uncharacteristically thoughtful.

Elara nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. “I don’t have any other choice, Isla. I’ve spent years trying to make something work that was never meant to, and now I want to do something for myself.”

Isla’s grin widened, and she leaned forward as if she’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“Well, isn’t it lucky I know just the thing for you?”

Her tone was light, almost playful, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.

“Silver Horizon Studios— for them I work—has this incredible opportunity. They’ve started an exclusive international internship program for scriptwriters. It’s very selective, and only the best get in. You’d be learning from top writers, working on major projects. And when it’s over, you’d have a position waiting for you back here.”

Elara’s brows lifted in surprise. “That sounds... amazing. But why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re celeste ara,” Isla said with a knowing smirk.

Elara’s expression stiffened for a moment, but she quickly recovered, lowering her gaze to her tea. Isla continued, her voice softening.

“You’ve been hiding behind that pseudonym for years, but your talent deserves to be seen. The studio president, Ethan Sinclair, already knows about you—or, at least, Celeste ara. He’s been impressed with your work for a while.”

Elara blinked, her heart skipping a beat. “Wait... he knows who I am? How could that be possible? Noone knows other than you that I write."

Isla hesitated, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not entirely. He knows about your work, not your real name.

"But he’s very keen on having you onboard.I mean having Celeste Ara.” Her voice faltered slightly, and she shifted uncomfortably. She was leaving out a part of the story.

Elara’s mind raced, overwhelmed by the sudden possibilities. She’d always written to escape, to create a world where she wasn’t trapped by her marriage or the expectations placed upon her. And now, someone like Ethan Sinclair—a name she’d heard only in connection to the industry’s finest—was offering her a chance to step into that world.

“This... this could be a fresh start,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Isla’s grin returned, and she clapped her hands together.

“Exactly! You’ll go abroad, immerse yourself in writing, gaining expertise and come back ready to take over the industry. So, what do you say?”

Elara exhaled deeply, the weight of her decision settling on her shoulders.

“Let’s do it.”

The two women spent the next half hour discussing logistics, Isla’s excitement contagious as she assured Elara this was the right choice. When they finally stood to leave, Isla offered to drive her home, but Elara declined, opting for the solitude of a cab.

As Isla settled into her sleek black car, her phone buzzed in her purse. She pulled it out, her expression shifting as she read the message:

“Did she agree?”

The sender was Ethan Sinclair.

With a quick sigh, she typed back, “Yes. She’s on board.”

Almost immediately, a response appeared:

“Good. Keep me updated.”

Isla placed the phone in her lap and stared out of the tinted window, her thoughts drifting back to the day Ethan had called her into his office.

Few days back....

The office of Ethan Sinclair was as sleek and minimalist as the man himself, the large windows framing a view of the city skyline that matched the sharpness of his presence. Isla Thompson sat across from him, her usual bold demeanor tempered with an unusual hint of uncertainty. Despite her fame and confidence in front of cameras, she had always felt a certain tension in Ethan’s presence. His calm, calculating aura was hard to ignore.

Ethan leaned back in his chair, the soft light from the windows catching the edges of his sharp features. He clasped his hands together, his steel-gray eyes studying Isla as if he were already two steps ahead of her.

"Isla," he began, his voice measured and cool, "I have a task for you."

Isla tilted her head, intrigued. "What kind of task?" she asked, leaning forward slightly.

Ethan’s lips barely twitched into the faintest smile as he spoke again. "I want you to approach a writer. Her name is Celeste Ara."

Isla blinked in surprise.

"Celeste Ara?"

She knew the scripts, emotive storytelling that had captivated so many.

"I—I’ve read her work. It's incredible, but…" Isla paused, her brow furrowing.

"But I have no idea who Celeste Ara actually is. She’s a ghostwriter, right?"

Ethan watched her carefully, a knowing glimmer in his eyes.

"You’re not fooling me, Isla."

For a brief moment, Isla’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t know how to respond, but she played it off, forcing a casual smile.

"I just don’t understand why you’re so interested in her."

Ethan’s smile lingered, but it wasn’t one of humor—it was a knowing, almost teasing expression.

"I’m sure you’re very familiar with her work, given your own connections to the industry. But you’re right. I want you to bring her into our internship program. I believe she could be an asset, and she deserves a place with Silver Horizon."

Isla felt her stomach twist slightly. Ethan knew more than he was letting on, and something told her that he knew exactly who Celeste Ara was—or rather, who  Celeste Ara is. But he wasn’t pushing her for answers. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, the weight of his words drawing Isla back into the conversation.

"Just make sure she feels this is her decision," he added smoothly, his voice taking on a softer tone.

"She’s talented, but I need her to know that the opportunity comes from her, not from me or anyone else."

Isla nodded, still processing the undercurrent of tension that seemed to hang in the air.

"Understood. I’ll handle it discreetly. But..." she hesitated, trying to ease her unease, "I don’t think she’s going to jump at the offer. She’s always kept to herself."

Ethan gave her a half-smile, his gaze unwavering.

"You’ll convince her, Isla. You’re good at that."

Isla couldn’t shake the feeling that Ethan had seen through her more than she was comfortable with. He knew her, her history with Celeste, and the unspoken bond that existed between them. But he didn’t press, didn’t demand answers. He simply nodded, as if he expected her to do her part. And Isla, despite the nagging feeling in her chest, agreed to the task.

"You’ll handle it well. I trust you."

Ethan’s tone had a finality to it, and Isla could tell that questioning him further would only get her nowhere. He wasn’t one to tolerate being pried into, and while Isla had learned to deal with people like him, she couldn’t deny the mystery that still surrounded Ethan Sinclair.

Back to present...

As she stepped out of the car, Isla couldn’t shake the feeling that hiw elara strings connecting her to this mysterious offer—and to Ethan—were more tangled than she realized.

Though she was hesitant but she still shared this offer with elara because she needs a new start in life.

And this offer is break through..

But whatever Ethan’s true reasons were, she was certain they were far more complex than anyone, including her, could have predicted.

And somewhere in the back of her mind, Isla couldn’t help but wonder: What was Ethan Sinclair hiding?