Chapter 4

Jayme didn't move. She kept the camera pressed to her eye, the world narrowing to the circle of her lens.

"I'm working, Mr. Villarreal," she said, her voice amplified by the sudden silence on set.

A collective gasp went through the crew.

Autry stopped, his face a mask of disbelief. He was not a man accustomed to being refused.

"What did you say?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft.

"This is a closed set," she said, lowering the camera to meet his gaze. Her heart was pounding, but her voice was steady. "You are disrupting the shoot."

He stared at her, and she saw the man he had become. Not the boy who had saved her, but a powerful, arrogant tycoon who believed the world bent to his will. All those years, she had chased a ghost.

She had pulled so many stunts in the past. Showing up at his office with lunch. "Accidentally" running into him at his favorite restaurants. Each time, she had hoped for a flicker of the old affection. Each time, she had been met with that same polite, impenetrable wall. He probably thought this was just another, more elaborate, stunt. He would never believe she was just trying to live her life.

"Please respect our work environment," she said, her tone all business.

A low, humorless laugh escaped his lips. It was a chilling sound.

"Mr. Gregory," Jayme said, turning to the director. "Can we please have security escort this person off the set?"

Kenan Gregory, who had been watching the exchange with wide, fascinated eyes, nodded slowly.

Autry's gaze turned glacial. He held her eyes for a long, charged moment, then turned on his heel and strode back to his helicopter without another word.

As the helicopter lifted off, a buzz of gossip erupted around her.

"Who was that?"

"That was Autry Villarreal! The tech billionaire!"

"What's he doing here? Do you think he's dating Jayme?"

Jayme became the center of a storm of speculation. Kenan, to his credit, quickly restored order and, seeing her shaken state, called an early wrap for the day.

"Go get some rest," he said, his voice gentle. "You've earned it."

Back in her small hotel room, she found a text from an unknown number.

'We need to talk.'

It was from Autry. She stared at the message, a strange sense of detachment washing over her. It was the first time he had initiated contact in years.

She deleted the message without replying. There was nothing left to say.

The next morning, she arrived on set to find chaos. Cassie Turner was there, surrounded by producers.

"There's been a change of plans," the lead producer announced, looking uncomfortable. "Our lead actress had a family emergency. Miss Turner has graciously agreed to step in."

Jayme stared at Cassie, who gave her a triumphant smirk.

"And," Cassie said, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear, "since Jayme has acting experience, she can be my stand-in for the more difficult scenes. To help me get into character."

She wanted Jayme to be her body double. The humiliation was the point.

Cassie watched her, clearly expecting an outburst.

But Jayme simply nodded. "Fine."

She would do it. She would consider it the final payment on a debt of gratitude that had cost her seven years of her life.

She went to the makeup trailer. As she sat down, the door opened and she saw Autry's reflection in the mirror. He was standing in the doorway, holding a single, perfect red rose. The same kind he had brought in the helicopter.

His eyes met hers in the mirror, and they were dark, complex, and filled with something that looked unnervingly like pain.

Jayme felt a chill run down her spine.

She stood up and walked out of the trailer, brushing past him without a word.

The scene was a kiss. A passionate, desperate kiss in the rain. The male lead was a professional, but as the cameras rolled and the fake rain began to fall, Jayme prepared herself for the clinical, awkward contact.

But the arms that wrapped around her were not the actor's. The kiss was not clinical. It was hard, possessive, and desperately familiar.

The scent of his cologne, clean and woody, filled her senses.

Her eyes flew open. This wasn't the actor.

She tried to pull back, to speak, but his mouth crushed down on hers, silencing her. His hand tangled in her wet hair, holding her in place.

Through the haze of rain and shock, she saw his face.

It was Autry.