He laughed. “You can’t throw me off my own set.”

“In the name of the Duke of Northland,” Vic stated in a low, dangerous tone Sophia had never heard from her before, “and the power vested by my lineage, I order you off this land immediately, and effective until such time as you make a formal apology and the appropriate behavioural adjustments.”

“You can’t be serious.” He turned to Talia, his face purple with impotent rage. “She can’t do this, can she?”

Talia shrugged. “She’d know better than me what she can do on her ancestral land, and that sounded pretty official to me.”

He stared at her long and hard, but Vic refused to so much as blink. Everyone else refused to breathe, including Sophia, whose mind screamed at her to stop this, but as much as the rush of emotion threatened to carry her away, she found she wasn’t any more immune to Vic’s commanding presence than anyone else.

Damn her stupid libido. She could only stare in horror as Brian threw his hands in the air and stomped off, bringing the entire production to a screeching stop.

Once he climbed into a transport van and rolled away, everyone turned to Vic, as if she’d somehow become their default leader. Camera operators, crew, actors, even Talia. Then Vic sighed, and the spell was broken. Maybe not enough for everyone, but enough for Sophia to recognise the woman behind the official façade.

“Everyone take thirty,” Sophia called, stepping into the role she had every right to play on this set. “Talia, you’re going to have to make some calls.”

“So many calls,” Talia agreed, her face pale and emotionless.

“And I’d like a word with you, Your Ladyship.” She turned to Vic. “Alone.”

The others seemed all too eager to escape the awkwardness and cleared the space quickly. One of them even went so far as to leave a rather expensive piece of camera equipment sitting atop a bale of hay. But Sophia waited until every one of them was completely out of sight before stepping into the tack room.

She didn’t wait to see if Vic would follow. She’d learned enough about her to realise that little outburst had likely cost her a great deal of energy and adrenaline. She might’ve even felt sorry for Vic if not for the myriad of things the temper tantrum had cost the rest of them as well.

She waited until she heard the latch close behind her before turning slowly. “How dare you?”

“What?” Vic’s eyes went wide.

“How dare you overrule my authority around my own body, and in front of my colleagues, in front of my crew, in front of my boss?”

Vic shook her head. “I took your side.”

“No, you took my agency.”