My Actress Girlfriend - Chapter 11: Chapter 11
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Vincent Roscente, his body worn down by years of excess, barely put up a fight. A few sharp punches were all it took to send him crashing to the floor.
His goons surged forward at the commotion, ready to jump me—until Vincent's assistant pushed through the crowd, face grim, shoving a phone into his hands.
"This is bad. The new allegations go way beyond just casting couch rumors."
Distracted by the firestorm erupting online, Vincent barely spared me a glance before barking at his men to throw me out.
Back in my car, I pulled up the latest updates on the scandal. The whistleblower had dropped a video.
The footage was damning—Vincent passing out pills at one of his private gatherings. Within minutes, the room descended into a frenzy of euphoria and unrestrained lust.
My stomach twisted as I watched. I'd been at those parties—but so had Sophia.
I'd gone there originally to tail her, convinced she was cheating.
But Sophia…
I drove straight home. She was sprawled on the couch, grinning like a kid who'd just pulled off the ultimate prank.
"Was this your doing?"
Her eyes sparkled with triumph. "Pretty impressive, huh?"
I rubbed my temples. This wasn't the time for applause.
"You and Vincent—"
"As if I'd ever let that slimeball touch me."
It had all been a setup.
When Vincent started casting for his new project, he'd invited Sophia for an "audition"—just another one of his sick power plays. But she saw right through it and turned the tables, orchestrating the entire takedown.
"That man I saw leaving the hotel with you…"
I trailed off, finally connecting the dots—he was the whistleblower.
"Oh, but the best part's still coming."
That afternoon, a second video surfaced—Vincent and his inner circle indulging in drugs at his home. Among them were A-list screenwriters, veteran actors, and studio execs—men who'd built careers on exploiting women with money and influence.
The scandal exploded beyond gossip into criminal territory.
Police moved fast. Vincent was arrested for narcotics distribution, while his associates vanished from public view, their careers in ruins.
"How did you know Vincent would try to exploit you?" I asked.
Instead of answering, Sophia leaned back, her voice quiet.
"My first acting gig, even the damn interns thought they could grab me. Guess who set that tone?"
She exhaled sharply. "There was this 'dinner with industry veterans' the director set up. Turned out to be a room full of rich men and a handful of young actresses. They got me drunk, then delivered me to some stranger's hotel room."
My chest tightened. I remembered finding her passed out on the street that night—I'd assumed she'd just partied too hard.
That director? Vincent Roscente.
Sophia curled against me. "I'm not with you for fame or money. You're the only decent man in this whole rotten industry."
His goons surged forward at the commotion, ready to jump me—until Vincent's assistant pushed through the crowd, face grim, shoving a phone into his hands.
"This is bad. The new allegations go way beyond just casting couch rumors."
Distracted by the firestorm erupting online, Vincent barely spared me a glance before barking at his men to throw me out.
Back in my car, I pulled up the latest updates on the scandal. The whistleblower had dropped a video.
The footage was damning—Vincent passing out pills at one of his private gatherings. Within minutes, the room descended into a frenzy of euphoria and unrestrained lust.
My stomach twisted as I watched. I'd been at those parties—but so had Sophia.
I'd gone there originally to tail her, convinced she was cheating.
But Sophia…
I drove straight home. She was sprawled on the couch, grinning like a kid who'd just pulled off the ultimate prank.
"Was this your doing?"
Her eyes sparkled with triumph. "Pretty impressive, huh?"
I rubbed my temples. This wasn't the time for applause.
"You and Vincent—"
"As if I'd ever let that slimeball touch me."
It had all been a setup.
When Vincent started casting for his new project, he'd invited Sophia for an "audition"—just another one of his sick power plays. But she saw right through it and turned the tables, orchestrating the entire takedown.
"That man I saw leaving the hotel with you…"
I trailed off, finally connecting the dots—he was the whistleblower.
"Oh, but the best part's still coming."
That afternoon, a second video surfaced—Vincent and his inner circle indulging in drugs at his home. Among them were A-list screenwriters, veteran actors, and studio execs—men who'd built careers on exploiting women with money and influence.
The scandal exploded beyond gossip into criminal territory.
Police moved fast. Vincent was arrested for narcotics distribution, while his associates vanished from public view, their careers in ruins.
"How did you know Vincent would try to exploit you?" I asked.
Instead of answering, Sophia leaned back, her voice quiet.
"My first acting gig, even the damn interns thought they could grab me. Guess who set that tone?"
She exhaled sharply. "There was this 'dinner with industry veterans' the director set up. Turned out to be a room full of rich men and a handful of young actresses. They got me drunk, then delivered me to some stranger's hotel room."
My chest tightened. I remembered finding her passed out on the street that night—I'd assumed she'd just partied too hard.
That director? Vincent Roscente.
Sophia curled against me. "I'm not with you for fame or money. You're the only decent man in this whole rotten industry."
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