The Accidental Son-in-law Is A Genius

Module 9 - AN EX- AS GIBSON

The morning sun glinted off Winifred’s car as she pulled up to her studio. The parking lot felt heavier today, as if even the building sensed the growing storm within its walls. 

She straightened her blazer, took a deep breath, and walked in with her usual commanding presence. Though her mind was already preoccupied.

Her manager, Ethan, was waiting for her near the reception area with a expression somber. His usual smile was nowhere to be found, replaced by a worried frown.

“Winifred,” he called out, walking toward her briskly. “We need to talk. It’s urgent.”

Winifred tilted her head slightly, trying to mask the unease creeping into her chest. “What is it now? Another issue with the scripts?"

Ethan shook his head. “No, it’s… it’s Gibson.”

Her steps faltered. That name always carried weight. Was it because of his money? Or was it because of how she hurt him? Gibson was her ex, her rich boyfriend who was going to propose to her.

She swallowed hard and composed herself quickly. “What about him?”

Ethan gestured for her to follow him into his office. Once inside, he shut the door behind them and leaned against his desk, arms crossed.

“He’s pulling out his shares,” Ethan said flatly.

Winifred froze. “What?”

Ethan sighed. “He wants to withdraw his investment from the studio. He’s already sent the paperwork. If this gets out, it’s going to ruin us. Gibson is popular; not just with the city’s elite but also online. His involvement has always been a major selling point for the studio.”

Winifred slumped into the chair across from him. “This… this doesn’t make sense. He didn’t even flinch when he found out I married my husband. Even then, he kept his shares intact.” 

She paused, thought for a split second then a bitter laugh escaped her lips. “I see. I should’ve known. He was just waiting for the right moment to do this, wasn’t he?”

Ethan nodded grimly. “It seems that way. And the timing couldn’t be worse. With the financial issues we’re already facing, this could bury us.”

Her thoughts spiraled. The studio had been her dream, her passion project, but not entirely hers. She had needed capital to bring it to life, and while Ethan, her trusted manager, had contributed, Gibson’s investment had been the critical push. Ethan had vouched for him, saying they’d been long-distance friends. Back then, it seemed like a blessing.

Now, it felt like a trap.

“Can’t we do something? Negotiate? Convince him to stay?” she asked, desperation creeping into her voice.

Ethan looked hesitant. “I’ve tried reaching out, but Gibson’s made his terms clear.”

“What are they?”

Ethan hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “Either you leave the studio entirely, walk away… or he buys the studio outright. If he takes full control, he can do whatever he wants with it. With you.”

Winifred frowned. “What do you mean, ‘whatever he wants’?”

Ethan looked uncomfortable. “He’s already hinted at the idea of rebranding… and not in a good way. He could turn this place into something exploitative. He even joked—” Ethan hesitated. His voice dropped. “He joked about putting you in… p**n films.”

Winifred’s face burned with anger and humiliation. “That bastard.”

Ethan quickly added, “I know this is a nightmare, but there’s another way. It’s not an easy solution, though.”

“What is it?” she demanded, leaning forward.

“We need to raise funds… quickly. Either we bring in a high-profile model to act under the studio’s name or secure a deal that can skyrocket our reputation. But hiring someone with that level of influence will cost a fortune, and the process could take months given the only high profile model we can afford is Gigi Lane worth 13 million.”

Winifred’s heart sank. The solution seemed nearly impossible. “We can’t afford that. Not in our current state.”

Ethan nodded solemnly. “I know. But without Gibson’s shares or a high-profile deal, the studio’s survival is uncertain.”

Winifred sat back in her chair, staring at the ceiling as she tried to process everything. Gibson had her cornered, and she knew it. He had always been calculative, but this was a new low.

Her jaw tightened. “I’m not leaving my studio, Ethan. I built this place. I poured my soul into it. If Gibson thinks he can bully me into giving up, he’s in for a surprise.”

Ethan offered a weak smile. “That’s the spirit. But we’ll need a solid plan, and fast.”

Winifred nodded, determination flickering in her eyes. She refused to let Gibson, or anyone, take her dream away. But deep down, she couldn’t shake the fear gnawing at her. What if she really couldn’t fight this?

The atmosphere at the studio soon turned tense as a convoy of three sleek cars pulled up in the parking lot. The lead car, a gleaming silver luxury vehicle, stopped with a dramatic screech. 

From it emerged Gibson, as flamboyant as ever. Dressed in a tailored maroon suit and gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, added with his trademark smug grin plastered across his face.

He didn’t come alone. Two impeccably dressed women flanked him. 

But that wasn’t all. 

Behind them were a swarm of reporters and camera crews, microphones raised and cameras rolling.

Gasps rippled through the onlookers as the media surged forward, recording every moment live. This wasn’t just a visit; it was a show, orchestrated to perfection. Gibson thrived in the spotlight, and today, he intended to use it as a weapon.

Winifred and Ethan stepped out of the building just as Gibson sauntered toward them, waving to the cameras with a practiced charm.

“Winifred Nate!” he called out, his voice amplified by the murmuring crowd. “I thought I’d pay a visit to see how things are going.”

Winifred’s fists clenched at her sides, but she forced a polite smile. “Gibson Monroe,” she said tightly. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I figured a surprise would be... appropriate, given the circumstances.”

The reporters immediately turned their attention to him. “Mr. Gibson, are the rumors true? Are you pulling out of ‘Walk In Light’ studio?” one of them asked.

Gibson smiled coolly, adjusting his glasses. “Ah, well, I do believe in transparency, especially with ventures like these. Let’s just say I have some concerns about the direction the studio is headed.”

Winifred shot him a glare, but before she could respond, another reporter asked, “What do you mean by that? Is this related to recent financial struggles?”

Gibson tilted his head thoughtfully. “Perhaps. Or perhaps it’s about ensuring that my investments align with my vision for the industry. After all, a studio is only as good as its reputation. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Winifred?”

Winifred’s jaw tightened. The live broadcast meant she had to tread carefully. She couldn’t afford to lose her composure. But every word Gibson uttered felt like a calculated jab.

“I think we’ve always been aligned in our vision, Mr. Gibson,” she said, her tone icy. “That’s why you invested in the first place.”

He smirked. “True, but circumstances change, don’t they? As investors, we have to make tough decisions sometimes.”

Ethan stepped in. “This isn’t the place for such discussions, Gib. If you have concerns, we can address them privately.”

Gibson shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, I’m perfectly happy to discuss them here, Ethan. After all, transparency, right?” He gestured toward the cameras, and the reporters ate it up, hanging on his every word.

Winifred fought to keep her breathing steady. She couldn’t let him dominate the narrative. But the media’s presence made every move treacherous.

Suddenly, the sound of another car approaching diverted everyone’s attention. A sleek black vehicle rolled into the lot, its tinted windows gleaming under the sunlight. 

The crowd fell silent as the car came to a stop.

The driver stepped out first, a young man with striking features, exuding a quiet confidence. He opened the passenger door, and out stepped a tall, broad-shouldered man who immediately caught everyone’s attention.

The crowd erupted in whispers. “Isn’t that Leo Grayson?” someone muttered.

It was. 

Leo Grayson, the superstar actor known for his blockbuster films and model-like charisma, worth 1.9 billion, stood there in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans, his hair perfectly tousled.

But that wasn’t all. 

From the backseat of the car, another figure remained concealed, their presence only hinted at by a faint silhouette through the tinted glass.

Leo ignored the buzz around him, striding purposefully toward the studio entrance. His eyes locked onto Winifred, and a genuine smile spread across his face.

“I’ve heard a lot about this studio,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the murmurs. He extended a hand toward her. “And I’d love to work with you, Mrs Winifred. I believe there’s a script you’re working on? Nothing can go wrong with me in your movies.”

Winifred blinked, momentarily stunned. “M..Mr. Leo, I… Ah, forgive my… I'm just surprised. You... you’ve heard about our project?”

Leo nodded. “My manager has been following your work. I think it’s brilliant, and I’d love to collaborate. If you’ll have me, of course.”

The tension in the air shifted and the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. Winifred glanced between Leo and Gibson, whose smirk had now faltered.

In your face!

As Leo’s hand remained outstretched, the figure in the black car shifted slightly. “Come on. Take the hand already.”

(Bonus Module - THWACK! FLESH MEETING FLESH)

It had all gotten to a fever pitch when sour Gibson suddenly leaned closer. His venomous smirk and his dripping malicious words reappeared. 

“Oh, so you know Leo Grayson?” he said mockingly, his voice carrying just enough for the reporters to catch every word. “Someone even the Monroe's industry couldn’t dream of contacting? I must say, Winifred, you really have a knack for seducing powerful men.”

The crowd gasped. 

Cameras flashed and microphones were raised up, eager to capture every moment of the brewing storm. 

Winifred’s face burned with both fury and humiliation. She opened her mouth to respond, but Gibson wasn’t finished… Not yet.

“Did I stutter?” he continued, his smirk widening. “Did I lie? No, I didn’t. Just like the time at the pub, where you knew I was going to propose to you, yet you went and spread your legs for another man. Thanks to that little stunt, you sealed your sad fate. A stupid, prostitute’s fate; marrying a driver.”

A collective gasp erupted from the reporters, their cameras zooming in on Winifred’s face.

Gibson sneered. He was clearly enjoying the moment. “Oh, what’s the matter? Aren’t you afraid, Winifred? Afraid that your poverty-stricken husband will come storming in here like a madman, raging with jealousy? What if he decides to throw a punch at our precious Leo Grayson’s million dollars face? Wouldn’t that be a spectacle?”

Winifred’s hands trembled at her sides, but she stepped forward. “Do not speak to me like that, Gibson Monroe. And do not bring my family into this. You have no right.”

Gibson chuckled darkly. “Family? Oh, you mean the family you built with that driver? I almost forgot you're no longer a Nate. So, what's his name? The one you spread your legs for without hesitation? Save it. And fucking Face it, Winifred, you’re nothing but a desperate, foolish—”

THWACK!

The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the lot, silencing everyone. 

Gibson staggered backward, his hand flying to his jaw. The crowd turned in unison, searching for the source of the punch.

Standing there, fists clenched and eyes blazing, was…..