Frank’s office was tastefully furnished, exuding a conservative elegance that suited a middle-aged man like him. The polished mahogany desk, the leather-bound books neatly arranged on the shelves, and the soft golden glow of the desk lamp all contributed to the air of quiet authority.The room was still, save for the faint rustling of paper as Frank studied scripts with meticulous attention.A sudden knock at the door interrupted the silence.“Come in!” Frank called out, without lifting his gaze from the documents.The door swung open, and James stepped inside with a bright smile. “Dad! Can I come in?”Frank finally looked up, his expression softening. “Not only can you, but you must.”James shut the door behind him and moved toward his father’s desk. “What’s going on?”Frank leaned back slightly, folding his hands together. “I want more details about your trip. I didn’t press you earlier because I didn’t want to seem insensitive. You needed to rest.” He studied his son’s face. “You o

Briana sat at her desk in the Glamour office, trying to maintain her composure as she conducted an unusual job interview with Ray Dixon. The actor’s confident demeanor made it difficult for her to keep her thoughts in order.“Mr. Dixon...” she began hesitantly.“Ray,” he corrected smoothly, his tone dripping with charm.She cleared her throat. “Ahem... Are you aware that we will be launching new productions in the coming months? We’ve recently partnered with Pratt Entertainment.”Ray feigned ignorance, his eyebrows raising slightly. “Great news! Hey, didn’t they go bankrupt?”Briana frowned. “They disappeared for a while, but it seems they’re back. My husband managed to bring them under Glamour’s wing during his visit to LCN in Lagoon City.”She still didn’t quite understand how Mark had managed to sink Armando’s company in the first place. Shaking her head, she refocused on the interview.“So, I won’t be working on ‘Times of Glory’?” Ray asked, casually running a hand over his broad,

That afternoon, inside the master suite of Karl and Luana’s apartment, the air was heavy and the walls were shaking. The bed creaked rhythmically until—BANG BANG BANG.A sudden, furious knock at the front door brought everything to a halt. The bed went still. Luana’s feet lay limp at the edge of the mattress, unmoving. Karl’s, on the other hand, jerked sharply as he reacted to the noise. He scrambled beneath the blankets in a panicked shuffle.Sweat-soaked and startled, Karl poked his head out from under the covers. His face was flushed and disoriented, clearly caught off guard by the interruption.“Mr. Carvalho? Miss Barros?” came the voice of Sergeant Ribeiro through the door, stern and unmistakable.“Damn it,” Karl muttered through gritted teeth.With awkward urgency, he disentangled himself from Luana’s exhausted body and threw aside the blanket.In his rush, he only grabbed a pillow to cover himself, stumbling barefoot out of the room and into the living room. Clothes and shoes

Back at Braspolis General Hospital that same afternoon, Mark and Celia had just released each other from a tight embrace. “Dr.” Vargas lingered respectfully nearby.“And?” Celia asked him, anxiety in her voice. “What are the chances?”“For heaven’s sake, Miss Soares,” Vargas replied calmly, “nothing bad is going to happen to your friend.”“Are you sure?”“Yes. She’ll wake up by tomorrow at the latest. The cut was sutured, and we’re not expecting any neurological damage after the X-ray scans.”Mark nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Dr. Vargas. That’s very reassuring news.”“The pleasure’s mine,” Vargas said, stepping into Mary Ellen’s room alongside a nurse to examine her more closely.The nurse never once questioned Vargas’s presence, despite the fact he wasn’t a real hospital resident.Mark turned back to Celia with a gentler expression. “See? Mary Ellen’s going to be okay.”But Celia was still shaken. “Mark, if I lose Mary Ellen, I don’t know what will become of me. I already lost you…

Elsewhere that same afternoon, in Gilson’s office, he and Claudia sat deep in discussion, brainstorming ways to save the company — and strip Sandro of any credit along the way.“We don’t just need to save the company,” Gilson said, his tone laced with rivalry. “We need to rub the victory in my hateful brother’s face.”Claudia tilted her head thoughtfully. “What if we review the existing programs and see if any deserve extra investment?”“Maybe,” Gilson said, already reaching for the phone. “Let’s interrogate the drama department. Someone must’ve left a draft lying around, or maybe there’s a series waiting for renewal.”A mischievous glint sparked in Claudia’s eyes. “If we can resurrect a show...”“Or launch a new one that outperforms Hope Alive,” Gilson added, leaning forward, the glimmer of hope returning to his face.“Where’s Katrina?” Claudia asked. “We could use her help.”Gilson threw up his hands in frustration. “Darling, if Katrina keeps up this careless, irresponsible behavior