Of course, Ross made sure to pleasure Cate to heaven and back, pushing her to the peak of ecstasy over and over again until her body could no longer take it.
She lost count of how many tis she ca, her mind turning hazy from the overwhelming pleasure.
By the ti everything was said and done, she had passed out completely, her limp body sprawled across the bed in exhaustion.
A ss—her skin glistening with sweat, her breath shallow, and the remnants of Ross's passion dried across her curves. He had marked every inch of her, leaving no doubt that she was his now.
When morning arrived, Cate stirred awake, her body sore yet tingling with satisfaction. As she slowly got out of bed, she could still feel the ghost of Ross's touch lingering on her skin.
A deep blush crept onto her cheeks as the mories of last night flooded her mind, sending a shiver down her spine. She bit her lip, torn between guilt and an intoxicating sense of fulfillnt.
She had never experienced anything like that before—no man had ever made her feel the way Ross did.
Despite the lingering traces of guilt, she forced herself to return ho, walking with a noticeable spring in her step.
Anyone who saw her that morning would assu she had just received the best news of her life, but only she knew the real reason behind her glow.
To appease her conscience, she decided to cook sothing special for her husband, as if a simple al could make up for the betrayal she had just committed.
But deep down, she knew the truth—things would never be the sa again.
Ross, however, cared little for Cate's guilt or her husband's existence. From the mont she surrendered herself to him, she had ceased to belong to anyone else. She was his now—mind, body, and soul.
And as fate would have it, her husband, like all the others before him, would soon develop an unexpected problem with his manhood.
It was an amusing side effect of Ross's conquests, one that he never bothered to explain.
He preferred to let won like Cate figure it out on their own, watching with amusent as they tried to navigate the new reality of their marriage.
Days passed, then weeks, and soon, all eyes were on the upcoming release of the highly anticipated movie starring Althea and Ross.
The buzz surrounding the film was enormous, with fans and critics alike eagerly speculating on how it would perform.
"I don't like how they handled this. They should've waited until next year to release the film," soone complained.
" too. Althea deserves better. Honestly, I think this is all Ross's fault. He's too desperate for the lilight and is dragging her na down with him," another chid in.
"I don't know about that," a third person mused. "Ross has surprised us ti and ti again. He's like the miracle boy of this generation."
As always, Ross remained unbothered by the chatter. People could talk all they wanted—it wouldn't change a thing. He had already won, and the world would soon witness it firsthand.
As discussions about Althea and Ross's highly anticipated movie spread like wildfire, the dia sought opinions from various public figures.
Among them was an unexpected guest—Robin, Althea's ex-boyfriend. His na had long been overshadowed by Althea's teoric rise to fa, but now, he was briefly thrust back into the spotlight.
A journalist sat across from him in a well-lit studio, eager to dig into his thoughts. The caras rolled, and the interview began.
"Hello, Robin. Thank you for taking the ti for this interview," the journalist greeted with a professional smile.
"My pleasure. I'm glad to be here," Robin replied, his expression calm and composed.
"First things first," the journalist continued, adjusting her notes, "we'd love to hear your thoughts on the upcoming movie starring your ex, Althea Quinn—now known as Althea Oakley. Do you still keep in touch with the famous actress?"
Robin let out a soft chuckle, as if amused by the question.
"Oh? Althea? Not since our breakup," he answered smoothly. "But I wish her nothing but success. She's incredibly talented, and I have no doubt her new movie will be a great one."
His tone was light, almost indifferent, but beneath the surface, there was no real Robin left to feel anything at all.
The truth was, the man sitting there, smiling and answering questions, was nothing more than a puppet.
The real Robin had been erased long ago, replaced by sothing—or rather, soone—entirely under Ross's control.
The journalist, oblivious to this grim reality, pressed on.
"Many have speculated about how you feel seeing her thrive in the industry, especially now that she's working alongside Ross Oakley, one of the biggest nas in Hollywood. Does it stir any emotions?"
Robin tilted his head slightly, as if considering the question, but his answer was already preordained.
"Not at all," he said with a polite smile. "Althea deserves every bit of success she's getting. If anything, I'm happy for her."
The interview carried on, with Robin fielding each question flawlessly, his responses perfectly crafted. There was no hesitation, no slip-ups—because a puppet never falters. It only performs.
***
A few months later, the highly anticipated premiere night of Chasing Mr. Trillionaire finally arrived.
It was more than just a movie screening—it was an event, a spectacle carefully crafted to make waves in the entertainnt industry.
The red carpet stretched out under the glow of flashing caras, celebrities and VIP guests arriving one by one in dazzling attire.
Fans lined the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite stars, their excitent buzzing in the night air.
The build-up to this mont had been nothing short of extraordinary.
The marketing team had worked tirelessly, ensuring that the film's na was everywhere—on billboards, in viral social dia campaigns, in exclusive behind-the-scenes interviews.
Ross had personally overseen every detail, sparing no expense to guarantee a full house.
His investnt had paid off. Every cinema screen showing the film was packed, with long lines of eager moviegoers stretching around the block.
As the evening progressed, the anticipation in the theater grew thicker. The lights dimd, and a hush fell over the crowd.
Then, the screen flickered to life, and for the first ti, Chasing Mr. Trillionaire played before an audience.
For the next two hours, the viewers were completely captivated. The film was a rollercoaster of emotions—thrilling, heartwarming, and deeply moving.
There were monts of laughter, gasps of surprise, and stretches of absolute silence as the audience hung onto every scene.
Ross had ensured that the cinematography was breathtaking, the performances top-notch, and the storyline unforgettable.
It was the kind of film that left an impression, the kind that would be talked about for years to co.
Then, as the credits rolled and the lights slowly ca back on, a wave of emotion swept through the theater.
Audience mbers erged, many of them with tear-streaked faces, yet radiant smiles.
So wiped at their eyes, sniffling as they turned to their companions, unable to fully process what they had just experienced.
Others clutched their chests, still feeling the lingering emotions the film had stirred within them.
Laughter and excited chatter soon filled the space as people exchanged thoughts, quoted lines, and gushed over their favorite scenes.
Outside the theater, journalists eagerly awaited reactions, their microphones and caras ready to capture the raw emotions of the first audience mbers.
Social dia was already exploding with early reviews, with fans calling it a masterpiece, a cinematic triumph, and so even going so far as to say it was the movie of the decade.
For Ross, this night was more than just a success—it was a victory. His vision had co to life, and the world had embraced it.
"I can't believe it! I'm a grown man, and yet I couldn't hold back my tears at that plot twist. It was just... sothing out of this world. What a twist! What a great twist!" a burly man exclaid, shaking his head in disbelief as he replayed the film's most shocking monts in his mind.
"Sa here. I told you it would be amazing," his girlfriend said, wiping the last traces of tears from her face with a sniffle. Despite her words, she was still visibly emotional, her eyes shining with the remnants of the story's impact.
All around them, couples and groups of friends shared similar sentints. The theater lobby buzzed with excited chatter—people animatedly discussing their favorite scenes, reeling over the unexpected turns, and praising the sheer brilliance of the film.
But the real frenzy was happening online. Within minutes, social dia exploded with reactions.
Hashtags related to Chasing Mr. Trillionaire dominated the trending lists, and review sites were flooded with glowing praise.
Clips of the audience's emotional responses surfaced, showing viewers crying, gasping, and even cheering during the film's climax.
Fans hailed it as a masterpiece, critics marveled at its storytelling, and so were already calling it a cinematic legend in the making.
The hype was unstoppable. Chasing Mr. Trillionaire was no longer just a movie—it was a phenonon.
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