Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

Tyrone snapped back, his voice laced with a frustrated edge, “I’m the one who’s gotta live with it. Now get your ass back here!”

Kevin hollered from outside once more, “Man, it was all James spilling the beans. That guy can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. Go take it up with him, why don’t ya?”

Back home, James sneezed so hard that it felt like his soul was trying to escape his body. NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

Once Kevin had stormed off, Tyrone slumped down in the private booth, letting time slip by. These days, he’d become a pro at zoning out; life seemed like a stale rerun of some old TV show.

He never used to think his days were dull, but now, especially during those sleepless nights, an aching sense of boredom and loneliness gnawed at him.

His hand, moving on its own accord, fished a coin out of his pocket.

Folks usually need a fat wallet to fling around phrases like “I’ll bury you in cash,” but Quintessa was broke as a joke and still had a knack for throwing money at him.

Why did she act all high and mighty? What did she have to be so proud of anyway?

He remembered well; she’d ‘hit‘ him with her cash twice. The first time was a measly quarter, and the second was a whole three–quarters; she was pinching pennies like there was no tomorrow.

Tyrone had tossed the rest of the change on his office desk, but for some bizarre reason, he’d pocketed that one coin.

Those four quarters represented the measly profit from a gamble of millions. It was a damn joke.

Tyrone had to admit that Kevin had one thing right: losing money’s one thing, but losing face? That’s a whole different ballgame.

He felt like a world–class sucker.

How in the world did he, a businessman, end up making such a boneheaded investment?

For over an hour, Tyrone wracked his brain. How could he turn the tide? Make it all back in one go?. Then, a lightbulb moment occurred. He came up with an idea, which was so bright that it could’ve lit up the Vegas strip.

Yeah, this could work. This just might be his ticket to breaking even.

The buzz on Twitter was dominated by two juicy tidbits: Roxanne’s scandal and Snow’s rumored romance. Roxanne’s PR team, despite throwing cash around like confetti, couldn’t quite shake the narrative. They insisted that she was framed and drugged, and pointed fingers at a female co–star without naming names. If you knew Quintessa, you knew who they were targeting at.

But this smear campaign didn’t catch fire. Roxanne’s die–hard fans bombarded Peaceful Zion’s Twitter, demanding the truth. The police had to step in, debunking the drug claims. They’d tested everything– utensils, blood–and found zilch. Roxanne had been the architect of her own downfall. Meanwhile, Snow teased the public. For two straight days, at precisely the same time, he posted a photo of a woman’s silhouette. No face was shown, but it can be told that they were unmistakably the photos of

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the same person.

The rumor mill went into overdrive; people speculated that Snow was about to go public with a relationship.

Quintessa, catching a breather on set, scrolled through Twitter and smirked at the wild theorizing. It was just a still from a music video, nothing more. A solo shot, at that. How did anyone get ‘romance‘ from

that?

She dug through Snow’s past tweets. He rarely posted pictures, and when he did, it was landscapes or his dog–never a woman. His sudden change in pattern was indeed curious.

Quintessa narrowed her eyes. Was Snow trying to cook up some gossip, and heat up her name in the press without her asking?

Should she be sending a thank you card to the Great Snow Jackson?

But if Snow was kicking off the promo, it meant one thing–her face and her name were about to hit the big time.