Jace’s hand tightened on Valentina’s ass. At first it was light, subtle enough to pass as stage direction.
She flinched, lips twitching against his, but held firm. Pride kept her spine straight. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her rattled.
Then his squeeze grew harder. Fingers spread, sinking into her through the thin fabric of her nightgown, molding the fabric to his grip.
Her eyes flicked toward Amelia. The director stood locked on the monitor, expression tight, too focused to notice. With her back swallowed by shadow, she thought Jace’s hand was hidden, so maybe that was why Amelia didn’t notice.
She then glanced at the crew and froze.
A young woman at the lights had gone still, eyes darting from his hand to Valentina’s face. Their gazes met. The girl blushed furiously and looked away, fumbling with the switchboard.
Heat rushed to Valentina’s cheeks. They could see her. They knew. She felt vulnerable, exposed, as though every hidden corner of her body was on display.
Her pride urged her to shove him off, to bark "cut." But her body trembled with something else. Not disgust. Something hotter, sharper.
Her gaze snapped back to Jace.
He kissed as the script demanded, measured and steady, tongue teasing with precision. But his hand stayed bold, squeezing and releasing, thumb tracing deliberate paths over the curves of her ass.
A current ran through her.
’Why does this feel good?’
Valentina had always been the one in control, the one to make men beg. She knew power and dominance. But this was different. The stolen touch, the hidden audience, the betrayal of her own body lit a fire she did not recognize.
Her knees wavered. She leaned in, chasing him, rising onto her toes to deepen the kiss.
Jace’s lips curved faintly against hers. Not a smile anyone could see, only the pulse of satisfaction vibrating in his chest.
Then his hand shifted lower.
His palm slid past the curve, pressing against the very end of her ass, until his middle finger brushed her asshole through the thin fabric.
Her body jolted. A shiver ran the length of her spine, toes curling.
His finger pressed, rubbing slowly. The nightgown stretched and caught between her ass cheeks, the silk dragged deeper with each motion.
Valentina’s breath broke against his mouth. Her vision blurred. Her legs trembled. Her body burned hot, skin prickling, nerves alive like fire.
Her pride whispered that she should stop this. But her body drowned it out with throbbing need.
A low sound escaped her throat, muffled in his mouth. She didn’t even recognize it as her own.
Her whole body tensed, then slackened, surrendering to the wave of heat.
Amelia’s voice cut like a blade.
Jace broke away instantly, hand pulling back, lips leaving hers with practiced calm.
Valentina staggered, her breath ragged, eyes unfocused.
The set broke into murmurs.
"As always, Actor Jace’s acting is phenomenal."
"I swear, his intimate scenes look too real..."
"Hahaha, I told you! The chemistry between Sir and Actress Valentina is something else!"
Amelia stepped forward, her smile polite but tired. "Good work, as always."
Jace dipped his head lightly. "It’s nothing. Ms. Valentina’s acting hides my flaws."
He glanced at her. Valentina’s legs trembled visibly, her body swaying as though the floor itself shifted.
Amelia chuckled softly. "Mr. Jace, you don’t need to be so humble. Few actors can make a scene that convincing." She turned to Valentina. "Don’t you agree, Valentina?"
But Valentina’s knees buckled. She sank down to the floor, catching herself on her hands.
Gasps rang out. Amelia rushed over, voice panicked. "Valentina! What happened?"
Valentina’s body shook, not from illness, but from the crash of overwhelming arousal. The sudden withdrawal left her weak, her body unsteady, her mind fogged.
Jace’s lips twitched faintly. He didn’t rush to help.
Instead, his eyes shifted.
The girl at the lighting rig still stood there, cheeks pink, trying to meet his gaze.
He walked toward her calmly, every step unhurried. She froze when he stopped beside her, clutching the switchboard like a lifeline.
Her lips parted nervously. "S-Sir, about your promise..."
Jace’s hand landed gently on her shoulder. He leaned close, his voice velvet in her ear. "You did great."
He slipped five crisp hundred-dollar notes into her hand.
Her breath hitched. Her eyes darted to the money, then back to him. She swallowed hard, face reddening further. "T-Thank you, Sir..."
Jace’s smirk deepened, private. ’This is only the teaser. I hope you enjoy the full film.’
That evening, he gathered Amelia and the cast in his office.
"I’ll host a party," he announced, "to celebrate completing the first six episodes."
Noelle’s eyes lit bright. "That would be great!"
Valentina sat silent, cheeks still tinged pink, arms crossed as though to hide her trembling.
Amelia frowned. "B-but isn’t it too early? Editing isn’t even done—"
Noelle groaned playfully. "Director, come on! A party boosts morale. Don’t you think we deserve one?"
Amelia hesitated, lips pressed thin.
Jace noticed, he said smoothly. "One day won’t cause trouble. And if the crew rests tonight, working overtime tomorrow won’t be an issue, even if it’s the weekend, right?"
Amelia blinked. Then her eyes lit faintly with realization. If they could justify working on a weekend once... they could do it again.
Her lips curved in a wicked smile. "Mr. Jace... let’s have a celebration."
Jace smirked. Just like Clara, he had shoved another seed of corruption, and this time the target was Amelia.
The banquet hall of the Royal Orchid Hotel glowed under golden chandeliers. Jace had booked the whole banquet hall.
White-draped tables stretched across the marble floor, crystal glasses catching light, silverware gleaming.
At the largest table in the center sat the core team: Jace at the head, Amelia on one side, Valentina on the other. Around them gathered the heads of lighting, sound, editing, costume, and casting. Their assistants and minor actors were seated in adjoining rooms, each with their own catered service.
Jace had spared no expense.
Amelia raised her glass, laughing lightly. "Mr. Jace—"
He cut her off with a smile. "Just Jace. And I’ll call you Amelia. You’re older than me, but I hope you don’t mind?"
She waved a hand. "No, no, what’s age, when we’re in the same industry?"
He chuckled softly, eyes sliding to Valentina.
She sat in a slit red dress, the silk hugging her figure, a deep neckline framing her chest. Her long legs were crossed, the slit baring smooth thigh all the way up. A glass of blueberry wine in her hand.
She lifted it to her lips, sipping, but suddenly coughed, the liquid catching in her throat.
Her head whipped toward Jace.
He smiled faintly. "Is the wine not to your liking?"
Under the table, his hand rested casually on her bare thigh, fingers brushing upward.
The party carried on, laughter and clinking glasses ringing around them.
But Valentina’s world shrank to the press of his hand.