Romantic fiction is never without its thorns. Rumors began to swirl. The "Dream Girl" was spending too much time with a "penniless writer." The producers were furious; the tabloids were relentless.
“I’ve watched every film of yours,” Ayan whispered. “Three hundred and eleven. In Autumn Rain , when your hero betrays you, you don’t just cry. You crumble from the inside. No director taught you that. You felt it. Who broke your heart, Manthra?”
Romantic fiction is never without its thorns. Rumors began to swirl. The "Dream Girl" was spending too much time with a "penniless writer." The producers were furious; the tabloids were relentless.
“I’ve watched every film of yours,” Ayan whispered. “Three hundred and eleven. In Autumn Rain , when your hero betrays you, you don’t just cry. You crumble from the inside. No director taught you that. You felt it. Who broke your heart, Manthra?”
