Semua Bab Satisfying the billionaire (mxm): Bab 171 - Bab 180

Wednesday on set was relentless. Carol pushed us through three scenes back to back, the kind of shooting day that left no room for anything except the work. Which was exactly what I needed. Eight hours of being Daniel instead of Leo. Eight hours of someone else’s problems living inside my chest instead of my own. Caleb and I ran through the corridor scene again. Then a quieter one. Two people in a kitchen saying everything except what they actually meant. “More silence in the middle,” Carol said after the second take. “You’re filling the gap. Don’t fill it. Let it breathe.” We ran it again. This time I let the silence sit between Caleb and me like a third person in the room. “That,” Carol said quietly. “That’s it.” After the wrap I sat in my trailer and checked my phone for the first time in eight hours. Fourteen notifications. Three from Max. Two from Sophie. One from my mother. One from Selina. And seven from numbers I didn’t recognise which meant journalists had found my

Sunday dinner at my mother’s apartment felt different this time. She made chicken. Real food, carefully prepared, the kind of effort she only made when something felt worth celebrating. The apartment smelled nice when I arrived and she was standing at the stove in an apron I hadn’t seen in years and the sight of it did something unexpected to my chest. “You’re wearing the apron,” I said. “I wear it regularly,” she said without turning around. “Mom.” “Occasionally,” she amended. I sat at the kitchen table and watched her move around the small space with the particular ease of someone who had quietly decided to take better care of themselves and was finding it agreed with them. “How are you sleeping?” I asked. “Better.” She stirred something. “You?” “Better,” I said honestly. She glanced at me over her shoulder. “Saturday dinner.” “Yes.” “How was it?” I looked at the table. “Good,” I said. “Really good.” She turned around fully now, spoon in hand, studying me with the speci

Thursday came faster than I expected. Two days of intense shooting, Carol pushing us deeper into Daniel’s story, Caleb and I finding new layers in scenes we had already run twenty times. By Thursday evening I was wrung out in the best possible way. I changed in my trailer. Dark jeans. A simple black shirt. Nothing complicated. Jade knocked on the door at six thirty. “Car’s here Mr Carter.” I stopped. Mr Carter. Said casually. “Thanks Jade,” I said. Grayson had chosen a restaurant in Soho. Small like the West Village place but with bigger windows facing the street. Visible from outside. Anyone walking past could see the tables clearly. He had listened. He was already there when I arrived, standing outside on the pavement waiting rather than sitting inside. Coat collar up against the cold, hands in his pockets, watching the street. He saw me coming from half a block away. He didn’t look away. Neither did I. “You waited outside,” I said when I reached him. “I didn’t want

We stayed on that bench until the cold became impossible to ignore. Which took longer than it should have because neither of us was in any hurry to move. Eventually Grayson looked at the sky. “It’s going to rain.” I looked up. Grayson shaking. “Yes.” “We should move.” “Probably.” Neither of us moved immediately. Then a single drop landed on my hand and we both stood at the same time and looked at each other and something about the simultaneous movement made me laugh and he smiled at the sound of it and we started walking quickly back toward the neighbourhood as the rain made up its mind and arrived properly. By the time we reached the coffee shop on the corner we were both damp and slightly breathless and the woman behind the counter looked at us with the particular amusement of someone who had seen many people arrive this way today. “Two coffees,” Grayson said. “Please,” I added. She smiled at me. “Sit anywhere.” We took the table by the window again. The rain moved aga

Monday on set started normally. Call time seven thirty. Coffee from the craft table. Jade with her clipboard moving everyone into position with quiet efficiency. Caleb ran lines in the corner with his script face down, testing himself. I had just settled into my trailer when Selina called. “Carol wants to push the schedule,” she said. “She wants to shoot the final sequence two weeks early.” I sat up straighter. “Why?” “Because she says the cast is ready now and waiting risks losing something.” “She’s not wrong. I’ve seen it happen. You peak too early in a shoot and the final scenes feel hollow.” “What does that mean for the timeline?” “Intensive shooting for the next ten days,” Selina said. “Long days. Emotionally demanding material.” “Can you handle that right now?” I thought about the last few weeks. Grayson and the legal resolution and cooking pasta badly together and standing at his window with his arm around my shoulders. I was the most grounded I had been in years.