Crushing The Hollywood Queen I Created

Cassandra Bell—the girl I’d spent ten years funding, mentoring, and quietly propelling—was now the reigning queen of Hollywood. Tonight was the Phoenix Awards, her coronation night, and I sat in the shadows of the mezzanine, genuinely happy for her. The host, a seasoned veteran, guided the conversation to her journey, asking if there was anyone special she wanted to thank. She gripped her gold statuette, her eyes sweeping the crowd with the practiced ease of a superstar, and then they stopped on me. The spotlight snapped onto my face, catching me completely off guard. But instead of gratitude, a look of profound disgust twisted her perfect features. She leaned into the mic. “I want to thank a certain gentleman for teaching me the true meaning of harassment.” “He claimed to have funded me for a decade, writing letters, showing up at every event.” Her voice was laced with poison. “Tonight, I want him to know: your delusion is sickening. I am self-made. You have no part in my success, not a single cent.” The entire auditorium erupted. The live stream chat exploded with vitriol, waves of digital hate crashing down on me. Behind her, the giant screen began rolling a sizzle reel for her management company, Aura Management. Boldly printed beneath the “CEO/Founder” credit was my name: Damon Maxwell. My name.

1 “Holy hell, is that him? He looks normal. How can he be a stalker?” “Ten years? That’s horrific. Cassie Bell is so tough to have dealt with that kind of creep.” “I’m going to vomit. Get away from that side of the room. Don’t catch his bad vibes.” I sat paralyzed. My phone vibrated in my pocket, a frantic, silent scream. I didn’t need to look to know my photo, branded “Psychotic Harasser,” was going viral. On stage, Cassie savored the moment. Her eyes met mine, a look of vindictive triumph burning in their depths. The awards ceremony ground to a halt. Security guards were heading my way. I stood up, pushing through the noise, walking toward the exit under the weight of countless judging eyes. As I passed the VIP section, Zane Harrison, a puffed-up industry darling who worked with Aura, subtly shot out his foot. I tripped, sprawling forward, my knee slamming into the polished marble floor. “Oops, my bad, sir… Dad,” Zane covered his mouth with a theatrical flourish, but his eyes were curved into malicious crescents. “I didn’t mean to. Why are you rushing? Headed to your next victim?” A ripple of nervous, suppressed laughter followed. I braced my hands on the floor, trying to push myself up, a sharp, drilling pain shooting up my leg. A pair of impossibly expensive stilettos stopped right in front of me. It was Cassie. She looked down at me, her expression as cold as if she were inspecting garbage. “Done making a scene, Mr. Maxwell?” Her voice was low, but every word was a calculated stab. “You’re embarrassing me.” I looked up at her flawless face, perfect under the stage lights. What she said was colder than any knife. “I warned you not to show up here.” Zane immediately wrapped an arm around her waist in a possessive gesture. “Cassie, baby, don’t stress over this nobody. He looks crazy. What if he has a weapon?” Cassie patted his hand, a small, reassuring gesture. “Don’t worry, Zane. I’m here.” She looked back at me, her eyes hardening further. “Security. Get him out. And from now on, I want this man banned from any venue I’m scheduled to appear in.” Two large guards grabbed my arms, their grip bruising and unnecessarily rough. They began half-dragging me toward the backstage exit. As we passed an empty dressing room, Cassie’s voice called out from behind. “Wait.” The guards paused. Cassie walked over and waved them away. The door closed, leaving just the two of us in the cramped space. She tossed a heavy cardboard box at my feet. “These are your trash letters.” “I’m giving them back.” “I never read a single word.” Scattered across the floor were the hundreds of letters I had written her over the past ten years. Each one held a promise, an encouragement, an expectation. Now, she called them trash. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper meant only for me. “You know what? Every time I saw your self-satisfied face, I felt sick.” “You thought giving me a few dollars made you my savior?” “I’ll tell you something, Damon Maxwell. What I hate most is when people look at me like I’m a pathetic stray. Your cheap pity was the biggest insult of my life.” My body went rigid. She knew my name. She had known all along. “You…” “Surprised?” She stood up, a cruel, triumphant smile on her face. “I looked you up years ago. Just a normal guy who started a tiny company. Did you really think you were some major figure?” She raised a hand, as if to pat my cheek, but recoiled as if I were contaminated, instead flicking the lapel of my jacket with her finger. “Stop dreaming.” “You and I are not in the same league.” She turned, yanking the door open. Zane was waiting outside. He shot me a fleeting, smug look before adopting his concerned, gentle demeanor for her benefit. “Cassie, baby, let’s go. The after-party is starting.” “Let’s.” Cassie walked out without a second glance. The door shut slowly behind her. I stared at the letters on the floor. The pain in my knee, the ache in my chest—they were one single, searing wound. My phone finally stopped vibrating. I pulled it out. The last text was from Greg, my assistant. “Mr. Maxwell, the company website… it’s been hacked.” 2 I didn’t go home. I had my driver take me to the office. The mid-rise building was empty except for the light spilling out of my executive suite. Greg was pacing anxiously by the door. Seeing my bruised knee and disheveled state, his eyes immediately welled up. “Mr. Maxwell, are you…” “I’m fine.” I pushed the office door open. “What’s the PR team saying?” “It’s useless.” Greg’s voice was choked with tears. “It was orchestrated. The bots and trolls are too aggressive. Our statement got buried instantly. Everyone is trashing you online, and someone posted the company address. They’re threatening to protest outside tomorrow.” I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the scattered city lights of Los Angeles. “And Cassandra?” “The party… it’s still going. Her name and Zane Harrison’s are trending number one: ‘Hollywood’s New Golden Couple.’” A deep, bitter irony. I had lifted her onto a pedestal, only for her to turn and step on my corpse while clinging to another man, bathed in the world’s adoration. Greg gently cleaned my knee, the sting of the antiseptic bringing me back to the present. “Sir, we should call the police. That’s defamation!” “It won’t work.” I shook my head. “She was careful. She only said ‘a certain gentleman.’ She never named me. If I try to fight it publicly now, it only confirms their narrative of the ‘angry harasser’ trying to lash out.” “Then… what do we do?” I didn’t answer. My eyes settled on a framed photo on my desk. It was ten years old. The picture showed a skeletal girl in ill-fitting clothes, her mouth set in a stubborn line, her eyes fierce and feral, like a hungry wolf-cub. That was the first time I met Cassie Jenkins. In that dusty, forgotten Appalachian town, she’d been tied to a pole and beaten for stealing a stale roll from a neighbor. Everyone had called her the fatherless stray, the thief. Only I walked over and cut the rope. I asked her, “Why did you steal?” She just looked at me, clutching the dirty roll to her chest. I later learned it was her little brother’s birthday. He hadn’t eaten in three days. I took her out of that town, gave her a new name: Cassandra Bell. Cassandra, the radiant one, Bell, the promise of grace. I sent her to the best private school, covered all the living, medical, and educational expenses for her and her brother. I wrote her letters, telling her to stand tall, to study hard, to see the wider world. The day she was accepted into the prestigious film academy, she called me for the first time. Her voice was shaking with excitement: “Brother, I got in! I’m going to make so much money and pay you back!” That one word—Brother—I carried with me for years. When she broke into the industry, I created Aura Management to manage her career discreetly, using all my connections and resources to propel her forward. I withdrew from the spotlight, becoming the anonymous “Mr. Maxwell” everyone talked about. I truly believed I was her closest ally, her most trusted secret. It was all just my own private fantasy. My phone chimed. A private message from an unknown number. I opened it. It was a screenshot of Zane Harrison’s social media feed. “Mr. Damon, still awake? So sorry about the drama tonight. Cassie is just a very honest person. She hates being lied to or controlled.” “She said people like you, who use small acts of charity to try and bind a person’s entire life, are the worst kind.” “Oh, and by the way, Cassie said your letters were garbage. She had them all burned in the backstage lot. Have a good night, old man.” Every sentence was a needle dipped in venom, aimed at my most vulnerable spot. I powered off the phone. I looked at Greg, my voice low and steady. “Call Legal and PR. Full senior management meeting. 9 AM sharp.” Greg looked confused. “Mr. Maxwell, are we…?” I looked out at the black night sky, a cold resolve settling over me. “We’re taking back everything she took.” 3 The next morning, I arrived at the office at 8:50 AM. The lobby was chaos—a swarm of reporters, flashbulbs exploding like fireworks. “Mr. Maxwell, your response to Cassandra Bell’s accusations?” “Do you admit to harassing her for ten years?” “Are you the rumored owner of Aura Management?” I wore dark sunglasses and walked through the crowd, escorted by security, straight into the private elevator. As the doors closed, I heard someone yell, “Don’t let him leave! This psycho needs to be exposed!” At 9:00 AM, I pushed open the heavy door to the conference room. Every senior executive, Legal, and PR head was present. My seat, the main chair, was empty. Cassie, her manager Brenda Maxwell, and Zane Harrison were seated brazenly right next to it. Brenda’s face immediately darkened when she saw me. “How did you get in here? Who let you in?” Zane let out an exaggerated yelp, scrambling behind Cassie. “Cassie, baby! He… he tracked me to the company! He’s going to hurt you!” He sounded genuinely terrified, as if I were a wild animal. Cassie patted his back, a slow, comforting motion. Then she lifted her eyes to me, radiating annoyance and contempt. “It’s you again. What exactly do you want?” “Was being humiliated on national television not enough? Now you’re chasing me to my workplace? Do you have no shame?” I ignored her, walking straight toward the head of the table. Brenda stood up immediately, blocking my path, adopting a posture of superior authority. “Sir, this is a confidential executive meeting. Unaffiliated persons must leave immediately! Or we are calling security!” “Yeah, get him out!” Zane peeked out from behind Cassie, adding with a vicious edge, “He’s clearly delusional. Mr. Maxwell will be here soon. Imagine what an impression this kind of maniac would make on the CEO!” “Mr. Maxwell?” I repeated the name softly, a hint of dark amusement in my voice. I scanned the room. The executives were either looking down, avoiding my gaze, or watching the drama with detached curiosity. They all knew my true identity, but not a single one spoke up. Self-preservation. Cassie was their cash cow, their it girl. I, in their eyes, was merely the “harasser” being dragged through the digital mud. Cassie, accustomed to this deference, leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. She spoke with a tone of casual dismissal. “Look, since you did help me out a few times years ago, I won’t press charges for last night.” “Take this.” She pulled a black card from her wallet and tossed it onto the table. “One million dollars. Take the money and vanish. Never let me see you again.” One million. It didn’t even cover the cost of her brother’s bone marrow transplant, let alone everything else. Zane let out an exaggerated gasp. “Wow, Cassie! You’re too kind! After what he did to you, and you still give him cash? You have a heart of gold!” He picked up the card, walking up to me, extending it with a pitying, patronizing hand. “Hear that, old man? A million bucks. That’s enough for someone like you to live on forever. Take the money and get out before you embarrass yourself further.” He tried to force the card into my hand. I didn’t take it. His hand froze in mid-air, his face twisting in confusion. “What’s your problem? Is it not enough? A million is more than you deserve! Don’t push your luck!” Cassie’s patience snapped. “Security!” she barked. “Throw this man out! I don’t want to see him for one more second!” A handful of guards rushed in, heading straight for me. The entire conference room watched in cold silence. In their eyes, I was about to be escorted out of the building I had built, like a defeated dog. I finally raised my head, my gaze settling on Greg. “Greg.” My voice was calm, almost conversational. Greg instantly understood. He picked up the internal line phone on the table. “Get Robert Liu, Head of Legal, and Sarah Chen, HR Director, up here immediately. Also, notify building security to escort these men out.” I pointed at the incoming guards. The conference room went absolutely silent.

4 The air in the room was a thick, suffocating silence. Everyone was staring at me, confusion mixing with alarm. The guards froze, looking at each other, unsure whose orders to follow. Brenda was the first to recover. She pointed at me, laughing with incredulous rage. “You? Who the hell do you think you are? Calling Robert Liu? Sarah Chen? Are you pretending to be Mr. Maxwell now?” Zane burst into loud, hysterical laughter, clutching his side. “Cassie, did you hear that? He’s telling security to leave! Is he completely insane? Did he watch a movie where he’s the CEO?” He turned on Greg, his face cruel. “And you! You little assistant! You follow this lunatic? You’re fired! I’ll have you packing your desk before lunch!” Greg’s face was pale, but he stood ramrod straight behind me. Only Cassie wasn’t laughing. She narrowed her eyes, assessing me, trying to find the crack in my unnerving composure. “What kind of game are you playing?” I didn’t answer. I just watched the security guards. “Did you not hear me?” My voice was low, carrying an undeniable, quiet authority. The head of the security detail hesitated, then, swallowing hard, took a step toward me. “Sir, please, don’t make this difficult for us…” His plea was cut short as the conference room door flew open. Robert Liu, the Head of Legal, and Sarah Chen, the HR Director, walked in. They paused, taking in the scene. Brenda rushed to them, frantic with relief. “Robert! Sarah! You’re perfect timing! This lunatic somehow slipped in, causing a scene, and impersonating Mr. Maxwell! Get him out of here!” Zane ran to Sarah Chen, pointing at Greg. “And that assistant! He’s complicit! Fire him immediately! He’s damaging company morale!” Robert Liu and Sarah Chen looked past them, their eyes settling on me. In the next moment, to the complete shock of everyone present, both directors bowed deeply to me. “Mr. Pierce.”