Chapter 181: The Third Female Lead

Chapter 181: Chapter 181: The Third Female Lead

The place Director Lincoln arranged was a Cantonese teahouse.

The summer night fell exceptionally slowly.

Renee Morgan and Warren stepped into the glow of sunset, and were led upstairs to a private room by the waiter.

When Warren and Renee arrived, Director Lincoln and the producer had already been there ten minutes early; upon seeing them, they quickly stood up to greet and invite them to sit down.

Renee and Warren exchanged a glance—why did this attitude feel so different from what they’d expected?

After pouring tea for the two, Director Lincoln finally explained the situation: the person backing Lillian Young wielded some influence in Maridia, someone they couldn’t afford to offend. If Lillian’s team set their sights on a script, they had to give it up.

Director Lincoln refilled Renee Morgan’s tea and began, "This script is hard to come by. If Lillian wants the female lead, then let her have it. But there’s another standout role in this script—the female villain, the third female lead. Her scenes are hardly fewer than the protagonist’s..."

The third female role, yet with no less screen time than the lead—usually a villain, or the villain’s official partner.

Her importance rivals the protagonist’s, but as a villain, she can’t be placed as the lead in the credits; otherwise, the script could never pass review. These days, everything needs to promote positive energy.

In terms of the overall plot, she counts as one of the protagonists.

The gloom on Warren’s face had vanished. Though Director Lincoln’s move was compensatory, it showed how much he valued Renee—whether for her industry buzz, or her qualities of beauty and skill—he clearly didn’t want to give up on her as an actress.

After introducing the core of the role, the producer slid the script across the table.

Warren glanced at Renee, signaling for her to take a look first.

Renee calmly picked up the script and flipped to the first page. Sure enough—it was the official wife of the show’s main villain.

The drama was about black crime: the main villain climbed from penniless street kid to wealthy mogul, different from those who collapse in the swirl of power, drinking and womanizing as they fall.

He avoided women, was ruthlessly self-disciplined, to the point of obsession—one reason the investigators couldn’t crack him.

Time flows backward, the plot unfolds in reverse. Only when the investigators dig deep do they learn this magnate once had a woman deeply entwined with his fate.

She was the villain’s forbidden love—the key catalyst who drove him to success, then into the abyss; and she was the final line he wouldn’t cross, the reason he eventually surrendered himself to justice.

By rights, someone so vicious shouldn’t know love at all. Yet, the script’s setup is unprecedented: even as the villain does evil, a sliver of purity remains in his heart—a dividing line between good and evil. The show explores humanity: that even the darkest soul harbors some yearning for, and fear of, love—even if that person has long since died.

Unlike the female protagonist—soft in appearance, unyielding at heart—the third female lead is a genius with a high IQ. Orphaned young and adopted by traffickers, passed from one employer to another, the scars of her childhood forged her into a cold, apathetic adult.

After becoming strong and seizing power, she sends her billionaire adoptive father to prison herself, earning him the death penalty—only to die herself, inexplicably, the same year. She leaves behind a massive inheritance, all legally transferred to her name by her foster father before their falling out. The drama’s main villain is her husband, and stands as the inheritance’s chief beneficiary.

But that’s just the official backstory. The real drama pivots on the cause of the third female lead’s death, with the prime suspect being her husband—the show’s main villain. What’s most puzzling is that she once got along well with her adoptive father—otherwise, she’d never have gotten control of the company or most of the assets. So what led to their rupture?

What made her determined to destroy her foster father—send him to prison, keep presenting evidence of his crimes, so even his vast connections couldn’t save him from execution?

Only when the reason for that betrayal is uncovered can the truth about her death come to light, and the police obtain key evidence for the villain’s conviction.

Crime, suspense—a plot linked chain by chain. Miss a link, and you’re lost; just as you relax, another blow comes out of nowhere.

The story is so riveting that Renee Morgan finished the entire script quickly.

The director and producer had brought contracts already, but still felt hesitant. They wanted Renee to audition on the spot—to see how well the actor fit the role.

Warren’s face flickered with disapproval at the idea of a sudden audition. She was about to argue for more time when Renee herself agreed.

For an impromptu audition, actors have scant time to prepare—it’s a pure test of improvisation. Lines don’t need to be strictly memorized; there’s more room for invention. Whether you can surprise the director and producer all comes down to your insight into the role.

Renee chose the scene where the third female lead, after taking control of her foster father’s company, confronts a gang of thugs kept on staff. She acts wild and unyielding, pressing a lit cigarette into a troublemaker’s mouth to "teach him a lesson."

The performance begins—her expression cold and remote. She picks up a cigarette, lights it, and, amid drifting smoke, delivers the line: "I’m Fiona Vance, not dead yet—how dare you act this way?"

The other man sees her as just a little girl, mouths off, and threatens her with the company’s fate—if he walks out, the whole place will be left in chaos.

Fiona Vance tilts her head slightly and lets out a soft laugh, walking toward him, then grabs his tie. In an instant, her aura completely changes. Her eyes turn dark as fog, her face unreadable—just a hint of a casual, mocking smile at the corner of her lips.

Her hand tightens inch by inch around the tie as he struggles for air. Only then does she press the cigarette into his mouth—her face utterly indifferent to life and death, a half-smile on her lips that makes your blood run cold, all while her gaze reflects the calm intelligence of a high-class intellectual. These two utterly opposite vibes blend on one face.

Warren had never seen Renee Morgan audition in person before. Now, watching her tug at the chair cover, jamming a cigarette butt into the fibers, her entire aura had changed. That chill rushed up from her feet to her scalp.

Warren had always known Renee’s talent, but hadn’t realized she’d progressed this fast...

Director Lincoln and the producer were so excited their eyes almost brimmed with tears. They knew instantly they’d struck gold, and rushed to pull out the contract, eager to seal the deal with Warren on the spot.

The fee Director Lincoln offered was within Warren’s expectations. She knew this series was destined for award nominations if everything went smoothly, so she agreed right away—but insisted on one provision: the third female lead’s scenes couldn’t be arbitrarily cut, nor the script dramatically altered.

The incident with Lillian Young seizing the lead had left her on her guard.