A warmth blossomed in Tilda's chest. The sweetness of it bubbled up so fast, she almost forgot to breathe.

It felt like she had walked straight into a romance novel-— one where the gallant hero steps in to defend the woman he loves.

Her lips curved into a hesitant smile, torn between the urge to follow Lyndon's lead and the pull of her commitment to the project. Should she walk away, hand in hand with her protector, or stay and fight for her place?

But before she could finish the thought, Reggie quickly stepped forward, his voice a little too loud. "Wait! Mr. Fernandez, please-this isn't how things work. Tilda and I have a signed contract!"

Lyndon shot him a look—cool, detached. "Then name your price for breaching it."

Reggie's face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and frustration. He tugged at his collar, his voice softening as he pivoted to Tilda. "It's not about the money. Tilda, you know this novel means a lot to Mrs. Hughes. I thought you joined this project out of respect for her. Walking away now —-how will you face her?"

He was cornered, and he knew it. Now, all he could do was appeal to emotion—and hope it would stir something.

Lyndon's eyes glinted with disdain. "There's no need to bring Rosalynn into this, Mr. Potter. I only care about one thing-my wife's happiness. Everything else is irrelevant to me."

Reggie, out of words, turned to Tilda, silently begging for her to fix this.

And though Lyndon's words were like a warm embrace, a part of Tilda wasn't ready to leave just like that—not yet.

She'd poured her soul into this project. Quitting now felt like abandoning a piece of herself.

She reached for Lyndon's sleeve, her fingers grazing the crisp fabric of his jacket. "Lyndon," she said softly, her voice a gentle counterpoint to the tension crackling in the room, "Mr. Potter has a point. This is Rosalynn's novel, and I want to honor it. I need to see the adaptation capture its soul, not dilute it."

Lyndon studied her, searching her eyes. "But can you keep working under these conditions?"

Tilda turned to Reggie, her tone now cool and clear. "Mr. Potter, I can stay-but only if we use Lyndon's sketches for the character modelling this time."

Reggie frowned at her request.

His gaze darted between the two of them. They Looked like a united front—and he didn't like it one bit.

He didn't want to use Lyndon's sketches. Not at all.

But if he refused.. Tilda would quit. And that was a risk he couldn't afford.

After a brief, reluctant silence, he caved. "All right, Tilda. I'll speak to Forrest about it."

He motioned for an assistant and quietly sent them off to fetch Forrest.

Tilda turned to Lyndon and gave him a grateful smile. "If you're busy, you can go now."

But Lyndon shook his head. "It doesn't matter how busy I am. Solving your problems comes first."

Tilda's heart fluttered, her eyes lighting up as she gently pulled him to sit beside her.

Their easy affection was like a spotlight, and Reggie felt the sting of it like a slap.