“Why are you suddenly growing a sense of decorum on this film?” Brian sneered, then glanced pointedly at Victoria. “Trying to do a little social climbing?”

“Brian,” Talia warned.

“No, seriously.” He blew through her stop sign this time. “Half the B-list has-been actors in Hollywood have been up her skirt, and a few of the women, too. Does all this Me Too, women’s libber bullshit really extend to women like her?”

“Enough!” Victoria snapped with all the commanding presence she had baked into her DNA. Even Sophia stood a little straighter in deference.

“I don’t care who you are or what role you have with this film,” Vic continued, seeming to grow taller with each word if only for the privilege of looking down her nose at him. “No one will be allowed to browbeat anyone into a sensitive situation on my estate. If the women on this set have concerns, they will be thoroughly and respectfully addressed before you move forward.”

“Or what?” Brian asked through clenched teeth.

Vic blinked. “Pardon?”

“You said you won’t allow me to control my actors as I see fit, but what will you do to me if I don’t bow to your highness?”

“Your Ladyship,” Vic corrected, lifting her chin, “and if you continue down this path, you’ll be forced to cease production of Ms. Volant’s film.”

“Who the fuck is Ms. Volant?”

“The writer,” Talia supplied.

“I thought you were the writer.” He shook his head. “Never mind, I don’t have time for this. It’s my movie now, and I’ll direct it how I see fit.”

Then he turned to the cameraman. “Get on the ground. Tommy, get your hand up her skirt, and Sophia, act like you like it . . . or don’t. No one cares.”

Sophia’s face flamed and her blood simmered as every eye on set fixed on her. It had been a long time since anyone dared speak to her like that, and she’d long passed the point in her life when she had to take it, a fact that everyone but Brian seemed to understand. Everyone awaited their next cue, not from him, or from Vic, but from her. A surge of power blended with her anger. She could end this all right now. If she stormed out, they would follow, and she drew a sort of satisfaction from knowing that, but she’d spent years swallowing a myriad of emotions. She wasn’t about to surrender to them now. Not when she’d come so close to getting what she’d worked so hard for.

She nodded, prepared to swallow her pride one more time when Vic raised her hand and called, “Halt!”

If the others hadn’t been frozen already, that would’ve done the job, and no one dared move now as Vic fixed an imperious glare on Brian. “Out.”

“What?”

“Get out.”