The first day of filming was chaos.
The makeup room smelled of hairspray, expensive powder, and stress. Makeup artists were running around with brushes like soldiers with bayonets.
In the center chair, Sacha sat wearing a white silk shirt for his first scene. He looked adorable, but his face was a storm cloud.
"Mommy," Sacha whined, trying to dodge a powder puff. "She keeps poking my face. I can't breathe good. I don't need powder. My face is already fine."
Anaïs—still wearing her mask and sunglasses—stood behind him, organizing his schedule on a tablet.
"Sit still, Sacha," she said patiently. "The lights on set are bright. If you don't wear powder, you'll look like a glazed donut."
Sacha crossed his arms. "Donuts are good."
"Excuse me!"
A shrill voice cut through the room like a knife on glass.
The door flew open. A woman walked in, followed by three assistants carrying her coffee, her purse, and her dog.
It was Sienna.
She was stunning, undeniable. She had cascading blonde hair, a figure that men would kill for, and a dress that cost more than most people's cars. She was the Muse of St. Yves. The woman who had taken Anaïs's place in the spotlight five years ago.
The makeup artists immediately stopped what they were doing and bowed their heads.
"Miss Sienna! You're early!"
Sienna didn't look at them. She walked straight to the best mirror—the one Sacha was currently sitting in front of.
She looked at the boy. Then she looked at the masked woman standing behind him.
"Who are these people?" Sienna asked, wrinkling her nose as if she smelled something bad. "And why are they in my chair?"
Anaïs felt her blood run cold.
Five years ago, Sienna had been a sweet, humble rookie actress who begged Anaïs for tips. Now, she looked at Anaïs like she was trash on the sidewalk.
Anaïs straightened her spine. "We are the talent. Sacha is playing the lead child role."
Sienna scoffed. A cruel, ugly sound.
"Oh. The charity case," Sienna laughed, turning to her assistant. "Bastian told me he picked up some stray kid yesterday. I didn't know he let them in the V.I.P. room."
She snapped her fingers at Sacha. "Move, kid. I need to do my eyeliner."
Sacha didn't move. He looked at Sienna's fingers, then up at her face.
"Um," Sacha said, blinking slowly. "But I'm sitting here. You can use a different mirror, Auntie."
The room gasped. The makeup artist dropped a brush.
Sienna's face turned red. "Auntie? I am twenty-six!"
"Okay," Sacha said, nodding like he accepted the information. "But you're being loud. Mommy says loud people give headaches."
Sienna looked like she was about to explode. She raised her hand, pointing a manicured finger at Anaïs.
"You! Manager! Control your brat before I have him fired!"
"He isn't lying," Anaïs said coolly, her voice muffled by the mask. "He's just observant. And we aren't moving. My client is in the middle of prep."
Sienna's eyes narrowed. She took a step closer to Anaïs.
"Do you know who I am?" Sienna hissed. "I am the lead actress. I am the face of this company. And more importantly..."
She lifted her left hand.
On her ring finger sat a massive, glittering diamond ring.
"I am the future Mrs. St. Yves," Sienna smirked. "Bastian is my fiancé. If I tell him to throw you out, you'll be on the street in five minutes."
Anaïs felt like she had been punched in the chest.
She stared at the ring. It was huge. Ostentatious. It was nothing like the simple, elegant ring Bastian had designed for her.
So it's true, Anaïs thought, a bitter taste filling her mouth. He really did replace me. He mourned for what? A week? And then he bought her a rock.
The pain was sharp and blinding. She wanted to rip the mask off and scream. She wanted to tell this woman, I was here first.
But she couldn't. Eve couldn't care.
"Congratulations," Anaïs said, her voice dripping with ice. "I hope he treats you better than his last wife."
Sienna rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. That boring woman? Bastian never loved her. She was just a placeholder. He told me he's relieved she's gone."
Crack.
The stylus in Anaïs's hand snapped in half.
Relieved.
Sacha saw his mother's hand shake. His blue eyes darkened. He looked at Sienna with pure hatred.
"That's not true," Sacha said, his voice small but hard.
"Excuse me?" Sienna looked down at him.
"My mommy says lying is bad," Sacha said. "And you're saying mean lies. Also… your face paint is a lot. It looks thick."
"YOU LITTLE—!"
Sienna raised her hand to slap him.
"What is going on here?"
A deep voice boomed from the doorway.
Everyone froze.
Bastian stood there. He was wearing a dark suit, his tie loosened. He looked tired, as always, but his presence filled the room with terrifying authority.
Sienna's face instantly changed. The anger vanished, replaced by a sweet, sugary smile. She ran over to him, looping her arm through his.
"Bastian, darling!" she cooed. "I'm so glad you're here. This horrible woman and her rude child were bullying me! They stole my chair!"
Anaïs watched them. She watched Sienna touch his arm. She watched Bastian not push her away.
He didn't shove Sienna off. He just stood there, looking bored. To Anaïs, his silence looked like acceptance. It looked like intimacy.
He really is hers now, she realized.
Bastian looked over Sienna's head. His grey eyes landed on Anaïs. He saw the snapped stylus in her hand. He saw the tension in her shoulders.
Then he looked at Sacha.
"Is this true?" Bastian asked the boy. "Did you bully her?"
Sacha didn't look scared. He pointed at Sienna.
"She called me a stray dog," Sacha said clearly. "And she lifted her hand like she wanted to hit me. That's not nice."
Bastian's eyebrows shot up.
Sienna gasped. "Bastian! Are you going to let him talk to me like that?"
Bastian looked at Sienna. He gently—but firmly—removed her arm from his.
"Sienna," Bastian said, his voice cold. "Sacha is the lead actor. If he is in the chair, it is his chair. Go to Station Two."
Sienna's mouth dropped open. "But... but I'm your fiancée!"
"We are at work," Bastian said, checking his watch. "Here, you are an actress. Go get ready. We roll in ten minutes."
He didn't defend her. But he didn't deny the fiancée title either.
He turned to Anaïs. He walked over to her until he was standing just a foot away.
"Agent Eve," he said.
Anaïs refused to look up. She stared at his chest. "Mr. St. Yves."
"Control your client," Bastian said low enough that only she could hear. "I like his fire. But if he insults my lead actress again, it will slow down production. Time is money."
"Maybe you should teach your fiancée some manners," Anaïs snapped back, unable to stop herself. "Or is bullying children part of her contract?"
Bastian paused. He heard the venom in her voice.
He looked at her masked face. Why did she sound so... jealous?
"My personal life is none of your business," Bastian said softly. "Do your job, Eve. And get me a new stylus. You broke yours."
He turned and walked out.
Anaïs stood there, shaking.
Sienna smirked at her from the other side of the room. "See? He always sides with me. Know your place, mask-girl."
Anaïs threw the broken stylus into the trash.
"Sacha," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Let's finish your makeup. We have a scene to steal."
Sacha looked at the door where Bastian had left. Then he looked at Sienna.
He made Mommy sad, Sacha thought, clenching his small fists.
That wasn't allowed.
He was going to make sure that man regretted it.