Page 65 of Billionaire's Second Chance

He pretended not to hear me.

"I'm sorry, Greg," I said a little louder. "I'm going through a lot. The stress is getting to me."

His eyes locked with mine. Then turned away. "Alright, let's get to work."

It wasn't much for an acceptance of my apology, but I took it.

A few steps into the tent, my eyes landed on Damon's statuesque figure, wearing a black leather jacket over a tight-fitting white t-shirt and jeans that showed every muscle of his lower body. Sandy and Derek listened to him while he pointed out things on a piece of paper he held.

“He’s early,” Greg said, his eyes pointing at Damon.

My heart sank into my stomach, disrupting a flurry of butterflies. Damon must have heard my heart thumping in my chest. He turned and froze when he saw me.

His expression softened briefly, then he turned around and dismissed me.

I pressed my lips into a thin line and shifted my gaze to Derek, who was waving me over.

“Good morning, Damon. Hi, Derek,” I greeted them kindly.

Damon nodded. A polite and formal nod, like he didn’t know me. I boiled with anger.

“You look fabulous,” Derek said.

I flashed my teeth at him. “Thank you, Derek. You look great, too.”

“Ava,” Damon interrupted us, looking me up and down.

“Yes.”

“Is this the dress they gave you?” He asked in a dour monotone.

"Correct." I tugged slightly at the edges of my short dress, then patted it, straightening out imaginary creases, hoping that my belly wasn't showing already. "Why, anything wrong with it?"

"It looks a bit tight," he said bluntly and motioned to one of the wardrobe ladies. "Fix it for tomorrow's shoot!"

I blinked and swallowed, blood rushing to my cheeks.

Fuck you, Damon! I should yell from the top of my lungs that I'm pregnant with your baby, and that's why my dress is too tight.

"Anything else you want to complain about, Mr. Alexander?" I blurted instead, placing my hands on my hips.

His eyes lit up in flames. He shoved the script that had been rolled up in his hands. "That’s a rundown of everything for the next three days.”

And then he walked away.

Sandy scratched his head. Greg looked at his feet. Derek fiddled with a loose button on his shirt. All three of them could sense the palpable tension between Damon and me.

"Chop, chop!" Sandy shrieked, sending shock waves through my body. "Ava, get in position. We'll film the scenes where you're sitting down today."

I swallowed the tears trying to escape my eyes, took a deep breath, and sauntered to the set.

Out with Ava, in with Rose!

I recited all my lines perfectly. The delivery of my voice sounded more confident than ever. My dress, although a bit tight, accentuated my upper body, making me feel feminine and sexy. I knew Damon was watching from a distance. I wanted him to squirm and regret every second he had spent being an asshole to me. This performance was for him. I would be the one person he wouldn't be able to break.

"Cut!" Sandy yelled, zapping me back to the dimly lit, dusty set. "Phenomenal! Great work, Ava!"

Greg's smile spread wide, refusing his orders to keep a calm face and ignore me after I had yelled at him.

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