Amara got the distinct impression that while Antonia wasn’t entirely brainless, her toxic upbringing had completely warped her. She only ever saw herself and would ruthlessly trample over anyone to get what she wanted.

It was definitely safer to keep her in the dark.

Amara turned and walked away, but Antonia, infuriated by the dismissal, chased after her.

“Hey! Stop right there!”

“I’m talking to you! Why won’t you give me a straight answer?”

Antonia stepped into her path, blocking her. Amara sighed, her patience wearing paper-thin. “Why should I? If you have questions about the script, I’ll gladly walk you through it. But you’re digging into my personal life. We aren’t friends, so why on earth would I owe you any explanations?”

Amara shot her a look that clearly labeled her a lunatic, sidestepped her, and walked off.

Antonia bit her lip in raw frustration, completely powerless to stop her.

She had no clue what was really going on between Amara and Keith, but any idiot could see that Keith was still hopelessly hung up on her. Were they secretly together?

And if they were, did Keith seriously not care that she was carrying another man’s baby? The injustice of it all made Antonia want to scream.

Back at her spot, Amara recalled the ridiculous confrontation. She wasn’t angry, just deeply amused by the absurdity of it all.

She already disliked the girl, mostly because she was Emma’s niece and had an undeniably wretched personality.

Now that she realized Antonia harbored a massive crush on Keith and had painted Amara as her ultimate rival, the constant provocations made sense. It was exhausting, but mostly, it just proved how breathtakingly immature Antonia was.

Amara grabbed a folding stool and sat near the monitors to review her script notes.

They had another scene coming up, and she wanted to observe the shoot and take notes rather than hiding away in the lounge.

She was engrossed in her writing when a sudden commotion rippled through the entrance Glancing up, she saw a striking, broad-shouldered man striding onto the set.

He was dressed in an impeccably tailored grey suit over a crisp black shirt, the collar undone, no tie in sight.

With one hand casually tucked into his pocket, his sheer magnetism and predatory grace instantly hijacked the attention of every single person in the room.

The studio was packed with

A-listers, models, and gorgeous

crew members, but the moment he walked in, his lethal jawline, imposing height, and dominating

aura effortlessly blew every other

mate star out of the water

Amara wasn’t surprised. The man demanded submission and awe wherever he went. It was, of course, Finnian.

Everyone knew exactly who the

billionaire was. The set erupted into a frenzy of excited whispers as

people gaped at his wealth and

impossible good looks A few of the bolder staff eventushed over to network.

Amara frowned. What the hell was he doing here?

He had practically lived on the set of ‘Whispers of Winter’, but that made sense-

Liliana was the female lead, and his company had bankrolled the project.

But Liliana was shooting a different project now and had zero connection to ‘Letters from Yesterday’. Why was he here? Was he looking for her?

The sudden realization made her stomach drop.

Panic flared, and she immediately ducked her head, praying he wouldn’t spot her.