The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 368

Charlize awoke with a start. A glance at the clock drew a sigh from her lips. She rose and, without dressing, went into the bathroom for a shower. Afterward, she changed into the outfit she had laid out the previous evening and pulled her last suitcase from the walk-in closet.

Today was the day Charlize would officially move out of Horner Manor. Her agent, Heidi Schaeffer, had already contacted the press and scheduled a conference for that afternoon to announce the end of her engagement to Matthew.

All the plans were in place, and every party involved had been briefed and coordinated with, so there were no major surprises anticipated.

As for how the media and the public would perceive it, she was confident it wouldn't cause any significant harm to her or Matthew.

Charlize gathered the last few of her belongings from around the room, placing them in the suitcase. After a final check, she stood motionless in the middle of the bedroom carpet, lost in a daze.

So many memories lingered here, so many moments of joy.

But she wouldn't let herself stay. She knew the kind of man who owned this place, and remaining here would only lead to greater heartache in the future.

"This is it," Charlize murmured to herself. "It's time to end it."

Just then, the bedroom door swung open. Matthew entered, his eyes finding Charlize standing in the middle of the room in her street clothes, watching him. He couldn't help but walk over to her.

Matthew stood beside her. "If you can't bring yourself to leave, you can always stay."Charlize ignored his words, giving him a light push. "Go take a shower, you reek of sweat."

Matthew shrugged, turned, and headed for the bathroom. He showered as quickly as possible and emerged to change into some casual clothes, only to find that both Charlize and her suitcase were gone from the bedroom.

He shook his head and left the bedroom, heading downstairs to the dining room. The cook had already prepared breakfast, and Charlize was seated at the oak table, eating.

Matthew pulled out a chair and sat across from her. With a slight wave of his hand, he dismissed the cook and the maid, who quickly exited the room.

"When's the press conference?" he asked, picking up his knife and fork.

Charlize replied without looking up. "Three this afternoon."

"Honestly, Sally," Matthew said, glancing around the vast dining room, "it's going to be too empty here without you."

Charlize lifted her napkin, dabbed her mouth, and finally met his gaze. "I wouldn't exactly say it was bustling with life when we lived here together."

It was only then that Matthew noticed the faint dark circles under her eyes. "Didn't sleep well last night?" he asked. "You have dark circles."

Charlize didn't respond. She finished the milk in her glass, rose abruptly, and walked out of the dining room. Once Matthew had eaten his last slice of bacon, he followed her out.

In the vast living room, Charlize was dragging her suitcase toward the door. Matthew hurried over, taking the luggage from her hand. "The press conference isn't until this afternoon, is it? What's the rush?"

She gave him a stubborn look and kept walking. "I'm leaving early."

He wanted to ask her to stay, but his mind told him it was impossible. So, he said nothing more and walked outside with her.

A black car pulled up slowly, stopping in the circular driveway in front of the house, just past the fountain.

The driver got out, took the suitcase from Matthew, and placed it in the trunk. Charlize glanced back at the house that had been her home for so long.

Matthew walked over to the car, opened the door for Charlize, and said, "Come visit whenever you feel like it."

Charlize moved toward the open car door, but just as she was about to get in, she stopped. She suddenly turned, opened her arms, and embraced Matthew. He wrapped his own arms around her in return.

"If I miss you," Charlize declared suddenly, "I'll come see you."

Matthew gently patted her on the back. "You're always welcome here."

Charlize released him, and Matthew took a step back. They looked at each other for a moment before Charlize slipped into the car, closing the door without hesitation. "To Santa Monica," she instructed the driver.

Her own residence was there; she had already sent most of her luggage over two days ago.

Matthew watched the black car disappear through the estate gates before turning back toward the house. Aside from Britney, his first love, Charlize was the only woman in years who had truly gotten under his skin. But those feelings didn't run deep enough to be insurmountable. He knew Charlize wouldn't halt her ascent for his sake, and he wouldn't halt his for hers.

He had just settled onto the living room sofa when his phone rang. Matthew pulled it out and glanced at the screen—it was Ilana.

He answered the call. "Hello."

"Matthew, I've caught up with Charlize's car," Ilana said from the other end of the line. "Just waved hello to her through the window."

This was all part of the plan they had coordinated with Charlize's team. "Get some photos," Matthew instructed immediately. "And get them on the site before her press conference this afternoon."

Ilana had come through for him many times before, and since Charlize was on board, Matthew was happy to give her another exclusive.

The foundation of a collaboration like theirs was, of course, mutual benefit.

"My people have been tailing Charlize's car," Ilana said, sounding pleased. "Thanks for another huge scoop."

Matthew stated plainly, "Just remember to manage the public narrative."

Ilana's voice came back over the line. "Don't worry. This isn't our first rodeo. I know what to do."

Matthew wasn't worried; he trusted her to handle it. Just then, the landline in the living room began to ring. "Call me or Helen if you need anything," he said. "I've got another call coming in. Talk to you later."

Hanging up his cell, he walked over to the landline. It was Helen.

"Has Charlize left?" was the first thing Helen asked.

"Yeah," Matthew replied, glancing at the wall clock. "About ten minutes ago. Ilana's on her tail."

Helen's tone was steady. "Charlize's press conference is at three. Make sure you're wearing a suit."

Matthew replied, "Next time. Ilana's coming here to interview me after Charlize's press conference this afternoon."

Helen reminded him, "Watch what you say. Don't go off-script. I'll be over at the manor this afternoon to go over the details with you."

"Perfect," Matthew replied, then added in a mock-serious tone, "But you know, I just heard two days ago there was a mysterious murder right here on the grounds..."

Click.

She had hung up on him.

Matthew shrugged and hung up the phone. He walked over to the massive floor-to-ceiling windows and gazed out at the view. From this vantage point, it felt as though all of Beverly Hills and half of the City of Angels were spread out beneath his feet.

But he knew it was an illusion—a fantasy that could never truly be real.

In this world, anyone with an ounce of ambition wouldn't grovel before others. They might restrain themselves temporarily for the sake of their future, but they would never tolerate it indefinitely.

He was, after all, just a movie star.

With that thought, Matthew resolved to let Charlize go, once and for all. The past was the past. It was time to look forward.

Besides, it had only been a sham engagement, bound by a contract.

Something that started as a lie was unlikely to ever become the truth.

Though his heart tightened with a pang of regret, he forced himself to look ahead, out at the bright, lush canopy of Beverly Hills.

After standing before the windows for ten minutes or so, Matthew turned and walked down a long corridor to his left, emerging onto a terrace. It offered the best view on the entire estate—a nearly one-hundred-and-eighty-degree panorama that, on a clear day, included a faint glimpse of the Beverly Hills Hilton.

The press conference Charlize had called for that afternoon was to be held in the press hall of the Beverly Hills Hilton.