The Fallen Film Queen’s Possessive Alpha - Chapter 29

Song Haoyin’s words held undeniable truth, leaving Zhou Qiwei with no room for rebuttal.

“You claim to respect me, you say our relationship isn’t that of a patron and a caged songbird. Yet you dominate our collaboration, dictate the terms of our friendship, and don’t even leave me a single channel for communication.”

Song Haoyin wasn’t making an accusation she was simply stating her feelings. “If I blocked you whenever I was unhappy and disappeared to film somewhere, making it impossible for you to find me, how would you feel?”

“Impossible. I’d definitely find you.”

“Zhou Qiwei!”

“Fine, I’d call the police, okay?” Zhou Qiwei raised her hands in surrender. She didn’t want to argue with Song Haoyin; it was pointless. She could find Song Haoyin if she wanted to. If she didn’t, it was only because she was giving her space. So far, despite minor setbacks in life, Zhou Qiwei had always achieved what she set out to do.

Don’t get angry. Don’t lose your temper. This wasn’t the first time Zhou Qiwei had struggled to communicate properly. Song Haoyin consoled herself today, the only issue to resolve was the communication blackout. Everything else could wait. “So you’re saying that if we lose contact again, I can call the police and make a scene?”

Zhou Qiwei knew what Song Haoyin wanted, but she refused to give it. Making a promise meant ceding a portion of her control something she couldn’t tolerate in her personal life. Work was different; she didn’t care about delegating authority there. But her life couldn’t spiral out of control. If she handed Song Haoyin even a fraction of that control, would she grow to like her more or would she look down on her? Would she hurt her?

If she didn’t give in, she could always escape at the first sign of danger.

What was so shameful about running away?

When a mission wasn’t mandatory, fleeing in the face of danger was perfectly acceptable!

Zhou Qing and Du Ning couldn’t harm her precisely because she had completely cut them off, denying them any opportunity to interfere. This was an effective way to protect her life a proven strategy Zhou Qiwei intended to keep following.

“What are you so afraid of?”

Song Haoyin’s question triggered an immediate reaction. Zhou Qiwei nearly jumped to her feet in denial. “That’s nonsense! I’m not afraid of anything!”

For a moment, Song Haoyin felt like she wasn’t dealing with an adult but a stubborn child.

In Song Haoyin’s eyes, Zhou Qiwei was a genius in pheromone research, a shrewd businesswoman who could turn the tides and force the Zuo family to back down. She even suspected Zhou Qiwei had meddled in Zuo Xingyu’s affairs.

Of course, as the privileged daughter of a powerful family, Zhou Qiwei also had her capricious, unrestrained side whether during her rut or when occasionally “overpowered” by Song Haoyin. But most of the time, she was calm, composed, and reliable. Even if her words sometimes lacked tact, there was rarely any malice behind them.

Song Haoyin didn’t know what Zhou Qiwei had been like in the past, but she believed she had come to understand her present self fairly well.

My family has no say over me.

That sentence resurfaced in Song Haoyin’s memory. Zhou Qiwei’s avoidance of her family, the outside world’s complete ignorance about her relatives, Du Xin’s vague reference to them being merely “distant cousins” none of it added up.

“I just don’t want us to lose contact. Talking about fairness might be going too far it feels rude. I apologize.”

Song Haoyin softened her tone, deliberately avoiding Zhou Qiwei’s gaze as she murmured to herself, “When you go off the grid, my mind starts racing, wondering if you no longer need my pheromones, or if my work has lost its value and become laughable, or if I’ve done something wrong that made you avoid me.”

“Maybe it’s the pheromone influence between an Alpha and Omega. I know it’s unhealthy, and I’ve tried to break free from it, but I can’t.”

“Don’t you dare apologize!”

Zhou Qiwei paced around the dining table, her expression twisting in anguish as she spoke incoherently, “You didn’t do anything wrong it’s my problem, my issue!”

Her own problem, her own responsibility no apologies or solutions needed from others.

“Throwing your problems onto others won’t help you make friends, you know. Friends should help each other out.” Grandma’s words still echoed in her ears after all these years. Over time, Zhou Qiwei had managed to make friends she was willing to help others and never blamed them for her own issues.

Yet her fear of losing control remained unresolved. Strangely, she didn’t want to completely cut ties with Song Haoyin either. Even if she could escape the pheromone disorder by severing their connection, Zhou Qiwei, deep down, didn’t want to. She enjoyed meeting Song Haoyin regularly, sharing meals, and chatting about trivial things.

In those moments, she could feel genuine happiness an unfamiliar, special emotion she had never experienced before.

“Zhou? Zhou Qiwei!”

Song Haoyin called her name several times, but Zhou Qiwei continued circling the table as if deaf, until Song Haoyin stepped in front of her and slowly released her pheromones. Only then did Zhou Qiwei finally stop. She looked like someone trapped in a suffocating shell, struggling but unable to break free.

Long ago, on a film set, Song Haoyin had heard an old prop master describe a hunting trap a pouch-like snare. Small animals, panicking, would rush inside only to get caught in its mechanism. No matter how violently they struggled, escape was impossible. The more they thrashed, the tighter the trap became, until they suffocated.

What had been the trigger that made Zhou Qiwei step into that trap, turning her into the woman in the shell?

“Let’s make a promise, okay?”

I can’t let this chance slip away I’m such a despicable person. Burdened with guilt, Song Haoyin hooked Zhou Qiwei’s pinky finger with her own. “Pinky swear, when you’re in a terrible mood and don’t want to talk to anyone, at least send me a text to let me know you’re safe.”

“Can I not say where I am?” Zhou Qiwei leaned into Song Haoyin’s embrace she loved this warmth far too much.

“Of course.”

Whether Song Haoyin had seized an opportunity or Zhou Qiwei had gone along with it didn’t matter. In the end, both were satisfied with the outcome.

That night, they didn’t stay at Zhou Qiwei’s place for long. In the early hours of the morning, Song Haoyin’s phone rang incessantly. It was Yu Miao, her manager, informing her that Zuo Wanggong of the Zuo family had personally come to the studio to see her.

Zhou Qiwei wrapped her arms around Song Haoyin from behind, listening in on the call before signaling for her to agree.

“The Zuo family must be in complete chaos right now. But why would Third Uncle want to see me?”

“If I had to guess, he’s acting as a messenger coming to talk to you about me.”

“About you?” Song Haoyin paused before understanding. “You mean they want to discuss the shares.”

Tonight, Zhou Qiwei revealed the alliance between Elden and Qu Jinghan to Song Haoyin, knowing full well that Top Benefit would inevitably find out. That’s why they came to Song Haoyin under cover of night, she was now the only conduit to reach Leliana, at the very least to dissolve their joint acting agreement and preserve the Zuo family’s control.

The Zuo family was desperate. Zuo Xingyu’s case was serious, and its repercussions would be disastrous. They were clutching at every lifeline available. The fact that Zuo Wanggong had sought out Song Haoyin proved they were taking her seriously, afraid of provoking her.

“Miss Song Haoyin,”

Zhou Qiwei held her in her arms, both of them leaning against a beanbag chair on the living room carpet, pressed close together. Zhou Qiwei called her name again and asked, “Do you want to be the chairman of Top Benefit’s board?”

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