The set was alive with energy, the kind of frantic rhythm Aurora Sage had never experienced before. Cameras glided across polished floors, crew members shouted over one another with clipped urgency, and actors rehearsed lines in corners with practiced intensity.
Aurora kept close to Logan Mason, though not by choice. His hand was anchored firmly at her waist, a silent warning to anyone daring enough to approach. She felt the weight of curious stares—the assistant's lingering glare, the crew's whispered speculation, and the subtle envy of women who thought themselves entitled to Logan's attention.
It was suffocating.
But Logan thrived in it.
