Scarlett took a long, steadying breath, fighting to stabilize the chaotic thrumming of her heart. She pointedly ignored Julian, who remained frozen at the edge of the set, his face flushed with a dark, suffocating rage. With a steady stride, she returned to her mark beneath the artificial downpour, locked eyes with Sean, and gave a sharp nod of readiness.
"Apologies for the interruption. Let's finish this," Scarlett said, her voice carrying a cold, professional edge loud enough for Julian to hear.
The director, unwilling to lose this golden momentum, instantly roared, "Action!"
Sean didn't hesitate. He pulled Scarlett into an embrace that was markedly more possessive, as if staking a physical claim. In the silence of the scene, he marveled at her spine of steel. This time, the kiss actually happened. It wasn't mere acting; Sean applied a tangible, grounding pressure, while Scarlett allowed herself to drown in the role, using it as a vessel to vent the agony Julian had caused her.
