Book one | Alexa Harvey, a celebrated actress known for her fierce independence and uncompromising nature, has always steered clear of the sports world. But when her latest film role requires her to shadow Jude Bellingham, a rising football star wit...
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Alexa Harvey glared at the leather-bound script in front of her, feeling a surge of frustration rising in her chest. This was not what she had signed up for.
The words on the page taunted her, mocking the careful image she had built over her career—the image of a woman in control, always.
A woman who had no interest in the trivialities of the sports world, or, more precisely, the machismo and bravado that seemed to define it.
But here she was, about to dive headfirst into that very world. All because her agent, Mark, had assured her this role would be "career-defining."
Alexa snorted at the thought. Career-defining?
For who? Certainly not for her.
"You look like you're plotting murder," Mark's voice broke through her thoughts, the tone laced with amusement as he entered her spacious living room, his presence a familiar comfort.
She shot him a withering glance. "I'm not ruling it out."
Mark chuckled, unbothered by her sharpness. He was used to her moods, had been since she was a nobody taking minor roles in off-Broadway productions. He knew how to read her better than anyone else, which only made his next words all the more frustrating.
"You know, you could at least try to see this as an opportunity."
"An opportunity?" Alexa repeated, incredulity dripping from her voice. "To do what, exactly? Play babysitter to some overhyped footballer with more muscles than brains? No, thank you."
Mark sighed, sitting down on the plush couch across from her, the coffee table between them littered with scripts, notes, and the remnants of a hastily consumed breakfast. "Jude Bellingham is one of the biggest names in sports right now. This film isn't just about football, Alexa. It's about the person behind the fame, the sacrifices, the struggles. It's a character study."
"A character study," she echoed, her tone flat. "Right. Because that's exactly how they'll sell it, isn't it? Not with flashy montages of goals and cheers, but with deep, introspective monologues about the price of fame."
Mark smiled softly, recognizing the sarcasm for what it was—a defense mechanism. "You're the best actress in Hollywood for a reason. You can bring depth to this role that no one else can. And besides, shadowing Jude will give you the insight you need to make your character real, relatable."
Alexa rolled her eyes, pushing the script aside with a huff. "I don't need to 'shadow' anyone to do my job, Mark. Especially not someone like him."
The thought of Jude Bellingham—poster boy for arrogance and testosterone—made her skin crawl.
She'd seen his type a thousand times before, usually gracing the covers of tabloids with a supermodel draped over his arm. Men like him were the reason she'd avoided anything remotely connected to sports her entire life. They lived in a world where brute strength and superficial charm were the currencies of success, a world where women were often reduced to mere accessories.
