I Was the Wrong Girl in His Bed, Now I Own His Empire Chapter 10

I Was the Wrong Girl in His Bed, Now I Own His Empire Chapter 10

What a coincidence-after that day, my first film as the lead actress, Daydreaming, was officially released.

Within just three days, both box office and reviews skyrocketed. Even more coincidentally, it exploded online almost simultaneously with Brandon Whitford’s new film.

For a moment, the entire entertainment industry was talking about the dark horse Ventresca Films had bet

on this year.

With Daydreaming, I was also officially nominated for the Golden Film Award for Best Newcomer.

But on the day the nomination list was announced, the top trending search suddenly exploded.

#SiennaPlasticSurgery 150 lbs fat girl in the past

The hashtag shot straight to number one.

Someone had dug up all my university photos.

In those images, Jasmine wore oversized hoodies, her body noticeably heavier, thick black-framed glasses on her face. She stood in a crowd, completely unremarkable.

But now Sienna stood under the spotlight in a red carpet gown, stunning like a completely different person.

The contrast was too extreme.

The internet erupted instantly, and the comment section was swallowed by malice.

“So she’s a “tech beauty.” No wonder she looks like that.”

“I knew her resources came too fast. Of course there’s someone behind her.”

“Ventresca Films signed her and immediately pushed resources. Did she sleep her way up to Mr. Ventresca?”

“She was famous at Westbridge University for chasing the hockey captain.”

“Didn’t she even peek at someone changing before? Disgusting. How did she make it into entertainment?”

“Depression? Now people use anything for a sob story.”

The wave of online hatred surged like a tide.

Ventresca Films’ PR team immediately activated a crisis response. Lawyers’ letters and takedown requests

were sent out in waves.

But the more they suppressed it, the more violently the situation exploded. Even former Westbridge University students began to surface.

Anonymous “exposés,” exaggerated stories, coordinated narratives claiming I had slept my way up.

The entire entertainment section descended into chaos.

But I stayed unusually cat.

After everything I had been through, a few vicious words online could no longer hurt me.

I turned off my phone and curled up on the sofa, continuing to-read my new script.

But Bryson said nothing.

He sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, long fingers scrolling through his phone. His expression darkened

little by little.

The entire penthouse felt suffocatingly quiet.

After a long while, he finally spoke in a low voice.

“You took medication for depression… because of your weight gain?”

My hand paused on the script.

“Yeah.”

My voice stayed calm.

“Back then, my father had just passed away, and the family was buried in debt. I wasn’t emotionally stable, so I was on medication for a long time.”

“After I stopped the medication and slowly recovered, my body went back to normal.”

I said it lightly, as if it meant nothing.

But the next second, Bryson suddenly leaned over and pulled me into his arms.

His warm lips brushed against the back of my neck.

His voice was hoarse.

“I’m sorry. I found out too late.”

My chest tightened.

Clearly, the storm online was not a coincidence.

To release targeted material exactly on the day of my nomination, and to mobilize such a large wave of

marketing accounts and bots, someone had clearly orchestrated it.

Veutresca Films’ legal team traced the money trail.

It didn’t take long before they found Alina

And her close friend-the one who had lost the Best Newcomer nomination because of my sudden rise.

On the same day the lawyer’s letter arrived, Alina panicked and called Bryson directly.

“Bryson, we were at least classmates. Do you really have to go this far?”

Bryson sat in his study, not even lifting his eyes.

His long fingers turned a pen slowly, his voice cold without a trace of warmth.

“Alina.”

“When you used bots to destroy Jasmine, did you ever think we were classmates too?”

The line went silent instantly.

Then Bryson hung up directly and blocked her number.

That night, Bryson registered an Instagram account.

The current Don of the Ventresca family personally opening a social media account was already explosive

enough.

But his first post shattered the internet completely.

It was a photo of me from university.

I was wearing an oversized hoodie, standing outside the library with books in my arms, smiling slightly

shyly.

The caption was only one line;

“Let me introduce her. This is Sienna. And she is also the girl I’ve liked for many years-Jasmine.”

Within minutes, the comment section collapsed.

At the same time, Ventresca Films launched a full counterattack.

The truth behind the “peeping in the changing room” incident was fully exposed, including prank recordings, surveillance footage, and witness statements.

A professor from Westbridge University also came forward publicly:

“Jasmine Bellrose suffered from severe depression and took a leave of absence. She was always an excellent and hardworking student.”

Then Brandon Whitford posted as well.

“I’ve worked with Sienna. Whether she is Sienna or Jasmine, she is a very professional and outstanding actress. I’m glad the new generation has someone like her.”

The tide finally began to turn.

“So she was the victim all along.”

“Why are the bullies acting like they’re the victims now?”

“What’s wrong with gaining weight due to depression medication?”

“She was just trying to survive.”

“Now I understand why Mr. Ventresca protects her.”

So this was what it felt like.

To have someone firmly stand beside you.

So this world really did have someone who, when everyone doubted you, would still choose to believe you without hesitation.

That night, for the first time in a long while, I logged back into Instagram.

And I posted a message with careful seriousness.

“Hello everyone. I’m actress Sienna Davenport. And I am also Jasmine Bellrose.”