When Control Returns

On Set – Break Between Scenes

Aleksander stepped onto the set like someone who knew exactly how much power he carried. Even from a distance, he spotted the tension in Sophie’s posture, and it only fueled him further.

From across the set, Claire watched. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the scene. Alexander’s presence was a storm, and Sophie—caught in it—looked vulnerable. Something in Claire’s gut warned her: Sophie wasn’t safe. But she couldn’t prove anything about the sabotaged saddle, not yet—but the instinct screamed danger.

When Aleksander reached Sophie, he leaned in slightly, wrapped in that smooth, effortless charm he wore like a tailored suit. His arm slid around her waist, and he kissed her. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t affectionate. It was a mark. A claim.

Sophie knew she had to respond. Not out of desire. Not out of any closeness. But because she understood the mechanics of danger. If she pulled back, if she refused, Alexander would sense something he wasn’t allowed to sense. Suspicion.

So she kissed him back. Enough to calm him. Enough to keep the situation contained.

Max stood beside Liam, holding him back, stopping him from storming forward, from blurting something reckless that would shatter everything.

“Wait. It’s not what it looks like. Just… give it a second,” he kept repeating.

Liam couldn’t look away. To him the image was simple: Aleksander and Sophie, no visible tension, no resistance. A scene that looked intentional. And the sight hit him so hard it hollowed him out before he could even assemble a thought.

It was that painfully human punch to the chest—the kind you feel when something you wanted so quietly suddenly looks gone.

“Finally you’re back where you belong,” Alexander said, his voice casually cutting through the space. Not loud, just precise. Loud enough for Liam to catch every syllable and feel the sting behind them. Loud enough for Sophie’s breath to hitch for the briefest moment.

Sophie felt the ground shift under her. Panic surged, but on the surface she stayed calm. She had to. For Liam’s safety. So Alexander wouldn’t detect anything out of place.

Liam – Trailer

Liam walked toward his trailer, each step heavier than the last. His heart hammered, his thoughts scattered into sharp fragments. Max followed him quietly, close enough to intervene, far enough not to draw attention.

Inside the trailer, Liam nearly lost his balance. A cold shock tore through him, the realization hitting like a blow: whatever he had with Sophie felt shattered. Irreparable.

“Liam,” Max said softly, stepping toward him with quiet seriousness. “I know this is rough. But you have to breathe. Piece by piece.”

Liam clenched his fists, head dropping. “I don’t know, Max… I don’t know if I’ll make it through the rest of the shoot…”

Max placed a firm, grounding hand on his shoulder. “Focus on the work. Don’t let this break you.”

Liam inhaled sharply, breath trembling. “Every look she gives… every smile… it hurts.”

“I know,” Max whispered. “But not here. Not now.”

Liam nodded, though his face had turned pale, his thoughts still in a violent storm. Max knew this wasn’t a scene. It was a fight to keep Liam from crumbling.

Ranch – Training Arena – Noon

Sophie stood in the training circle, the horse trotting steadily around her while the air hummed with tension. She held the longeline perfectly, her movements controlled, but her mind was racing. Every brief glance toward Liam at the fence squeezed something inside her chest. Professionalism was all she had left.

Liam watched her in silence, his expression filled with pain he couldn’t hide. Max hovered beside him, ready to steady him before a single wrong step exposed too much.

Alexander lingered a few meters away, unnoticed by the crew, but close enough to see everything. Sophie felt him like a shadow. His cold, assessing stare pressed against her back. To everyone else it was just another shooting day. To her, it was a field of landmines.

“Deep breath,” she whispered to herself as the horse quickened its pace. Every shift of her weight, every pull of the rope, was part of a performance she couldn’t afford to ruin.

“Beautiful!” the trainer called from the sidelines, blissfully unaware of the emotional battlefield collapsing around them.

The horse slowed. The circle quieted. Sophie loosened her grip, but her muscles stayed rigid. Alexander stepped further back, still close enough to remind her he was monitoring everything.

Max pulled Liam aside, whispering something meant to steady him. Liam gave Sophie one last look. Only a few seconds, but time stretched inside that glance.

Then he turned away.

Sophie remained in the center of the ring, the horse calm beside her, her heart trapped between duty and danger. Every move was survival. Made harder by the fact that Liam was so near.

Hotel – Evening

Sophie sat on the edge of her bed, knees drawn to her chest. Only a hallway separated them—Liam in his room, she in hers. Every corner of the hotel felt saturated with memory.

She saw his face in her mind. Him at her door. That kiss. His tux at the charity dinner. His fingers on the guitar, weaving a melody that had nearly undone her. It all pressed against her ribcage like a weight.

Across the hall, Liam sat with his guitar. His thoughts poured into the strings. Sophie heard the soft, uneven shifts as he played—every hesitant chord drifting under her door like something fragile and forbidden.

She stood and opened her door slightly. The music filled her room more clearly, raw and intimate. Her heartbeat stumbled. Every note felt like a memory. A confession without words. She stayed still, letting the melody wash over her. For a moment, nothing else existed. No danger. No past. No Alexander. Only him. And the music.

Hotel – Night – Liam’s Room

Liam leaned against the bed, the guitar resting on his lap. His fingers moved across the strings in hesitant, searching notes. Then something inside him broke open—Sophie’s image crashing through every barrier he’d tried to build.

The chords sharpened, urgency rising in his chest. Words came out in a raw whisper:

“You were a star, burning in the night,

One flash of your light, I was hypnotized.

But you rose higher, beyond my reach,

No matter how I try, I can’t touch your sky.

Your fire, it called me, drew me in,

Yet the closer I got, the further you’d spin.

I chase the shadow of your flame,

And though I want to hold it, I can’t call your name.

You shine alone, untouchable, free,

And even if I fall, you’ll never fall with me.

One spark, one glance, one fleeting blaze,

You’re the song I can’t own, the star I can’t chase.”

He froze, breath uneven, fingertips still resting on the strings. The melody hovered in the room like smoke—slow, haunting, impossible to hold.

The final chord drifted through the quiet, slipping into the hallway. Toward her. Without his knowledge.

Something clear flickered inside him. The song meant something. Too personal to ignore. His fingers replayed the sequence instinctively, already memorizing it.

Across the hall, Sophie didn’t know the words, but the music reached her like a message he couldn’t dare to speak aloud.

Sophie’s Room

There was a soft knock at the half-open door.

“Come in,” Sophie managed, forcing her voice to sound casual.

Claire stepped in, her eyes scanning Sophie carefully. “How are you holding up?” she asked, concern lacing her tone.

“I’m fine,” Sophie said quickly, keeping her posture steady, forcing a calm she didn’t feel. “Really.”

Claire didn’t look convinced. She narrowed her eyes. “Sophie… if Alexander is threatening you, if he’s crossing a line, you tell me. Understand?”

Sophie’s throat tightened, but she forced a small nod. “He… he’s fine. He’s… polite.” Her words slid out too easily, the lie tasting bitter even as she said it.

Claire’s expression softened slightly, but her eyes remained sharp. Something in her gut told her there was more Sophie wasn’t saying. She gave a small, knowing sigh. “Alright… just… be careful.”

With that, Claire left the room, the door clicking softly behind her. Sophie exhaled, but her heartbeat didn’t slow. She had kept the lie intact, but Claire’s presence lingered in her mind, a reminder that someone else could see the danger she couldn’t escape.

No sooner had the door closed than her phone vibrated. Alexander.

He didn’t speak at first. Just that slow, controlled breathing, the kind that crawled under her skin and stayed there.

Then his voice came through, low and unhurried.

“You’re forgetting the rules, Sophie.”

Silence.

“You don’t move without me knowing. You don’t decide without me hearing it. And you don’t pull away unless you want consequences.”

She felt the air in her room thin.

“Say ‘yes,’ Sophie,” he murmured. “So I know you understand.”

Sophie couldn’t force sound past her tightening throat, but she managed the smallest breath, a shaky exhale that he would hear.

It was enough for him.

Another thin pause.

“Good girl.”

He ended the call.

Sophie lowered the phone with trembling fingers, her pulse hammering against her ribs, her mind racing with the same truth she kept trying to run from.

She had no choice.