CHAPTER 562: MICAH AND THE MOUNTAIN OF TROUBLE (PART ONE)

The car rolled to a smooth stop at the foot of the mountain peak. The production team had chosen this location specifically for the commercial, an open clearing near the park, overlooking the entire city, high enough that the skyline looked like miniature silhouettes painted against the horizon. The air was sharp with the smell of autumn leaves, and the wind carried a faint chill, rustling through the trees like soft applause.

Micah stepped out of the car first, pushing the door open in one swift motion. His silver hair caught the sunlight, flashing like polished strands of metal. A cool smirk tugged his mouth up. Behind him, Emile scrambled out of the backseat a little awkwardly, nearly tripping over his own foot as he took in the scenery.

Clyde opened his door too, leaning forward as if intending to follow them. His mouth had only just parted, one breath away from asking if he could tag along, when Micah turned, eyes narrowing sharply.

"Don’t even think about it," Micah shot at him.

Clyde blinked, stunned. "Micah..."

"Nope." Micah cut him again, lifting a hand like a traffic barrier. "If you follow me, I’ll assume you’re here to see Ilyas. You don’t want that misunderstanding, right? So be good. Stay off the set today. Otherwise, I can’t promise you’ll see me again anytime soon."

Clyde stiffened, the cold rejection hitting him in the chest. For a heartbeat, he looked like he wanted to argue, or at least explain something, but Micah had already turned away. The icy decisiveness in the young man’s posture made it clear...this wasn’t negotiable.

With a defeated exhale, Clyde shut his car door and drove off, disappearing quickly down the mountain road.

Emile watched the car vanish and muttered numbly, "Cruel."

Micah smiled cheerfully, dusting imaginary lint off his coat. "He’ll live."

Emile pressed his lips together and followed Micah up the stone steps toward the set, still in a daze.

Emile felt his soul leave his body when he realised Micah had gotten into the entertainment industry and even opened a media company thanks to his uncle.

Why? Why was he denied when he asked but Micah was okay to be an actor? The blatant favouritism was too much to stomach.

Micah, walking ahead with his chin lifted high and posture proud, looked like he was stepping onto a battlefield he had already won.

The set was buzzing with activity, cameras mounted on tracks, long reflector boards catching the sun, stylists hurrying around with brushes and portable lights.

Against this glittering scene of organised chaos, Micah spotted the one person guaranteed to sour his mood.

Patricia Mullins.

She stood near the makeup tent, clipboard in hand, expression businesslike as always. Upon noticing Micah, she offered a respectful smile. The gesture should have made her look professional, except Micah’s smirk immediately sharpened into a sneer.

His cheap manager. It wasn’t that Micah had a beef with her on a whim. The fact that Patricia dared to send Clyde his pictures and even misled Clyde into thinking he liked Ilyas. That alone was enough to irritate Micah.

"Ms Patricia," he called, voice dripping with false sweetness. "You’ve waited long."

Patricia instantly sensed his shift in attitude. Yesterday he was polite. Today he was... acidic. "Not at all," she replied carefully. "It’s my duty to arrive earlier than my artist."

Micah tilted his head, silver hair sliding over his shoulder. "Is that so? For a moment, I thought you had come early to set up hidden cameras or recording devices. Wouldn’t want to miss any blackmail material, right?"

Patricia’s polite expression cracked. "Young master..."

"Stop." Micah’s voice turned cold. "Don’t ever call me that."

Patricia swallowed her frustration. What kind of sin had she committed to deserve this? If Micah weren’t the partner of her big boss, the one person she must not offend, she would have thrown ten lectures at him already. But this unpredictable young man had a knife for a tongue and the nerve to use it. And worst, he clearly knew she had sent Clyde photos of him yesterday.

"I suggest we discuss this later," Patricia said stiffly. "The team is waiting for your makeup."

Micah clicked his tongue. "I’ll leave my friend with you then. Do take care of him."

He walked away without giving her a chance to protest.

Patricia sighed deeply and turned to Emile, who stood stiffly with wide blue eyes, curly chestnut hair glowing slightly in the sun like soft caramel. His small freckles only added to his charm.

He looked adorable. Like someone who belonged on a poster for a fairytale movie.

A talent! She thought eagerly.

"Hello," Patricia greeted, brightening. "I’m Patricia Mullins, manager at La Riviere Media."

Emile stared at the woman, receiving another blow to his ego. Little uncle! he mentally cried. You gave Micah a golden manager?!

And yet... Micah treated her like public enemy number one. Why? Did he not know her reputation? Or was something more going on?

"Emile Collins," he said politely. "Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot."

"Oh?" Patricia raised an eyebrow. "Are you also in the entertainment industry?"

Emile shook his head quickly. "No, I’m majoring in fine art. I hope to enter the field professionally."

Patricia’s expression softened immediately, finding the young man more pleasing to the eye. "That’s the proper approach. Planning ahead. By the way, here’s my business card. If you’re interested, feel free to contact me."

Emile hesitated, scratching his cheek. "Um... thank you, but I already made arrangements with another company."

Patricia blinked. "Which company?"

Emile’s expression twisted into a grimace. "Ah... the truth is, I don’t know. You see it’s my friend’s company."

"Ohh..." Patricia’s voice prolonged. Such a fine man had probably been tricked. She offered him a pitying look.

Emile noticed it, puzzled. For a second he thought Clyde had sent Patricia to Micah’s company. But the moment she introduced herself, he knew that was not the case.

But what was the point? Clyde had already forced him to sign with Micah’s company, ruining his chance to join La Riviere Media.

He wanted to cry but had no tears.