Chapter 10

Less than 20 minutes after Zane abruptly left the set, the studio doors swung open, and Sebastian strode in, his presence radiating a calm and decisive demeanor that contrasted the unexpected interruption. The air crackled with a strange tension, a leftover current from Zane's sudden departure.
Sebastian scanned the room, his gaze settling on me where I stood, still in costume, amidst the dismantled set. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, then a steely glint entered his eyes as he took in the scene.
"What's going on here?" he demanded, his voice clipped and professional.
The director, clearly relieved by Sebastian's arrival, hurried over to explain the situation. Zane's unexplained absence, the disruption to the shoot – it all spilled out in a rushed monologue. Sebastian listened patiently, his expression unreadable.
When the director finished, Sebastian turned to me.
"Let's see the footage you've shot so far," he commanded.
An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach as I watched the scene play out on the monitor. Everything seemed to be in order – the lighting, the angles. They weren't expecting any real emotion, but it seemed good enough. Then, Sebastian tutted.
"What?"
"He said her name."
I blinked, leaning in as he replayed it. Zane had called out my name instead of my character's name. It was a subtle slip, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it mistake, but the implication made me uneasy. That wasn't a mistake that I could imagine Zane making just out of nowhere. I mean, it was just a beginner's mistake.
Sebastian rewound the scene and froze it on the frame where Zane uttered my real name. He zoomed in on his face, his eyes narrowed as if scrutinizing every flicker of emotion. A long silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken tension.
"Interesting," Sebastian finally murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a tremor through me. "Very interesting indeed."
"Do you think we could cut it out?"
"I'm sure we could. When is this set to air?"
"Soon."
I withdrew from the conversation and turned away. I couldn't help but think about last night. The weight of my actions with Sebastian pressed heavily on me as I watched the scene unfold on the monitor. The memory of that night, the tangled emotions, felt like a raw nerve exposed. I needed some kind of release, some way to break the stifling tension.
With a deep breath, I took a gamble.
"So, Sebastian," I said, my voice tight but steady, "since you have… experience, perhaps you could step in and finish this?"
The room fell silent. The crew exchanged bewildered glances while Sebastian himself seemed momentarily intrigued. A flicker of something I couldn't decipher crossed his face – amusement? Anger?
Then, a slow smile spread across his lips.
"Intriguing suggestion, Yvonne," he drawled, his voice smooth as silk. "But I believe Zane will be back before we're too close to the deadline. Besides, it would be too much to reshoot it. We wouldn't want to disrupt his creative process, would we?"
The barb was subtle, but it hit its mark. Shame burned in my cheeks, a reminder of the dynamic at play. He wasn't just the director; he held the key to my career, my very future in this industry. He'd only retired two years ago to be the director.
"Of course not," I mumbled, defeated.
Sebastian clapped his hands once, a sharp crack that echoed through the room.
"I'm sorry, sir, but we have a problem."
"What?"
"The scheduling time is earlier than we expected." The director hummed. "Since the change was so short notice..."
I ducked my head.
"Well, the schedule didn't change, and setting up this has derailed the story a bit. We're a bit concerned that the viewers won't be happy if we just leave it at the rape scene. And who knows when Zane will be back."
Sebastian nodded. "Fair. What do you suggest then?"
They murmured between themselves, but no one spoke. He scoffed and stood.
"Someone get me a costume. Rogue noble of some sort. We have some stock footage of a party, or at least some noise, right?"
I stood by and watched in a blur as people moved around. Sebastian, with a chilling efficiency, took control of the set. He stripped out of his clothes and changed while talking to the director about the scene that would fill the rest of the time block for this release. His voice, usually smooth and charming, took on a new edge, a note of raw authority that sent shivers down my spine. I barely followed what his plan was, but since it was just going to be another sex scene, it hardly mattered.
He had me resume pretending to clean the drawing room.
He came in with his clothes half-mussed and snuck up behind me.
"There you are, little kitten. I thought we agreed to play while your masters are off being idiots together."
I didn't know how to react, but I didn't need to. He kissed my neck and hiked my skirt up, grinding his cock against my ass.
"Shame he doesn't know. Think he'd join if I invited him?"
I gasped. "Y-You can't. I'll get fired."
He chuckled and spun me around. "Better make it so I won't have the energy to say a word, hm?"
I didn't know if he was going for blackmail or secret lovers, but once he kissed me it didn't matter. As we filmed, I couldn't help but be drawn into the night before. His confidence was infectious, his focus laser-sharp. A part of me, the part that craved the spotlight, reveled in the intensity of his direction and action.
But another part, the part that yearned for authenticity, recoiled from the calculated nature of it all.
By the time he came in me and the scene ended, I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Sebastian dismissed the crew with a curt nod, then turned to me, a predatory glint in his eyes.
"You did well today, Yvonne," he said, his voice a low murmur. "Much better than I thought. Perhaps there's more to you than I initially thought."
His words hung in the air, laced with a double meaning that sent a jolt through me. He got up, gathering the rest of his costume to hand off to the staff to get cleaned. Someone brought me a robe, and for the second time, I had no idea what to think.