It was an email from Silver Fox Agency.
Another rising agency in the film industry. Specifically, a rival of Big Star Agency. After Big Star, it was the second most successful agency in the industry.
Big Star thrived on tradition, clinging to tried-and-tested formulas.
While Silver Fox? They were the complete opposite. Their motto was that creativity had no limits, and they weren’t afraid to break the old rules to prove it.
It turned out to be profitable for them most of the time. Now, coming to the million-dollar question: Why in the world were they contacting me?
Was it a scam or something? Or someone impersonating them trying to fool me?
The questions lingered in my mind for way too long, and the reason for it could be that it was too good to be true.
Moreover, for every struggling person in the industry, to would be a dream come true if any agency contacts them and takes the first step.
And to answer those questions, the only way was to read the freaking content of the mail they sent. Clicking on it, the whole content spread out.
The logo stared back at me in sleek silver and black, all sharp edges and elegance, like it knew exactly how to intimidate and impress at the same time.
"Dear Ms. Ele," it began formally and politely.
The kind of opening that instantly makes you straighten your spine, even though no one’s watching.
They wrote about how they’d "been following my work for a while," which, let’s be real, seemed a little over the board and unbelivng at the same time.
The reason for me to feel that way because I have only written a few romance novels, which I published on a few e-book reading platforms.
And trust me, that was the cringiest thing I ever wrote.
Also, it’s been a long while since I stopped writing. There was no specific reason, just the priorities changed to other things.
More specifically, a cold-hearted celebrity who has also been my childhood crush.
Now, coming back to the main topic, it was hard to believe that such an elite agency read my books from those sites.
And yet... here they were, claiming to know about my progress, my style, my "unique voice" that they believed "had the potential to stand out in an oversaturated market."
My stomach did this weird flip. The good kind. The kind that whispers this could be big, right before the other voice in your head hisses, or it could be a disaster.
Then came the real hook.
They weren’t just offering a casual meet-and-greet. No, they wanted me to come in next week for a private discussion about "possible collaboration opportunities."
Their words, not mine. And yes, collaboration could mean anything from signing this life-changing contract to fetching us coffee while we forget your name.
At the bottom, a neat signature:
Head of Talent Scouting, Silver Fox Agency.
I just sat there, staring at the screen, my brain torn between oh my god and absolutely not.
This was the same agency that had poached actors straight from Big Star’s claws, the same one that had turned unknown names into headlines in less than a year.
They had a reputation for taking risks...big ones, and most of the time, it paid off. But sometimes... sometimes their "risks" left careers in smoking ruins.
And me? I was not in the mood to become anyone’s "learning experience."
Still, my finger hovered over the trackpad.
Forward it to Josh so he could tear it apart with his paranoid lawyer brain?
The problem was... I wanted to know what they had to say. Badly.
And that, I realised with a sinking feeling, was exactly how people got caught in trouble.
I shut the laptop with a snap. If this was a trap, they weren’t going to catch me drooling over the bait. At least... not yet.
I’d think about it. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow.
After all, the last thing I needed was Dave catching wind of this before I’d even made up my own mind.
Because if there’s one thing worse than being hunted by a rival agency, it’s Dave knowing you’re being hunted by a rival agency.
I sat there with the laptop still warm against my hands, staring at the faint reflection of my face in the black screen.
My pulse was doing this annoying little tap dance in my ears, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t silence the questions that kept circling like vultures.
What exactly had they seen in me? And why now?
Part of me...the reckless, curious part, wanted to march into Silver Fox’s headquarters tomorrow in my best outfit, chin high, and see what cards they had to play.
But the other part, the one that’s seen too many bad scripts and worse contracts, told me to run in the opposite direction before they could sink their teeth in.
And then, because my brain apparently enjoys self-torture, I thought about Dave.
Or worse, say nothing at all and just give me that look?
The one that makes you feel like you’ve already lost some invisible game you didn’t know you were playing.
No. This was mine. My decision. My risk to take or not.
I leaned back against soft cushions and thought of all the stories I’d heard about Silver Fox. They were charming when they wanted to be.
Ruthless when they needed to be. And always, always, they got what they came for.
And maybe that’s what unsettled me most, they had come for me.
I drummed my fingers against the laptop, weighing my options like they were fragile glass in my hands.
On one side: opportunity, exposure, the kind of career leap that could take years to earn otherwise.
On the other hand, the risk of being swallowed whole and spat out unrecognisable.
The more I thought about it, the more I realised I couldn’t ignore this. Not completely. The curiosity alone would kill me.
Still, I decided one thing right there: I wasn’t walking into this alone.
Not without knowing every single possible angle they could be playing. Which meant research.
With a sigh, I opened my laptop again and typed "Silver Fox Agency scandals" into the search bar.
If they were going to knock on my door, I wanted to know exactly what kind of wolves I might be letting in.