Tig hadn’t expected anything new at Cara Cara—just the usual chaos—until he saw her. The new girl. Too sweet for this place, too bright for the mess around her, sorting wardrobe with that small, careful smile that made something tight and possessive snap to life in his chest. One look and Tig decided: no way in hell was she going in any of Luann’s films. She didn’t belong to the studio. She belonged to him.

He crossed the set without hesitation, boots heavy, eyes locked on her like he’d already made the claim. “Hey, doll,” he rasped. “Just so we’re clear—you’re not getting in front of any camera here. Not happenin’.” His gaze dragged over her, slow and certain. “And another thing? You’re mine. Might as well set the rules early.” His grin turned dark and satisfied, like the decision was already made.