She didn't see Hunt again until the next week. She hadn't heard from him, either. All she knew was what the production team had told her – that he'd been in contact with Viktor, and that he was, indeed, going to be directing the movie. Not surprisingly, that turned out to be true. After all, there wasn't much else he could have done. Danielle had tried to get dirt on Viktor herself, though that endeavour came to a quick end when she realised that the people who would have the information she needed were likely in his pocket and would not hesitate to tell him she was snooping around. And that would have the opposite of the desired effect. So she'd racked her brain to find something – anything – else she could do, but she came up short. By the time filming was due to resume – and she was going to have to face Hunt again – she still was in the exact same spot she'd been when he'd turned up at her apartment that night.

So when she arrived at the studio that morning, she wished she could be anywhere else. Luckily for her, Hunt wasn't the first person she met. Though she wasn't sure just how much better running into Ethan was. He'd stepped out of a cab shortly after she'd arrived and just barely managed to catch her before she got to the gate. "Wait up, I've got something to tell you!"

Danielle sighed. "Look, I already told you, I'm fine. It's going to be fine."

"No, you're not. And it's probably not," he said and shook his head. "But that's not what I mean. You're going to want to hear this."

She raised an eyebrow. "Unless it involves a time machine or the tools to stop Viktor, I don't think so."

"I can get you out of your contract."

She froze, then blinked a couple of times to process what Ethan had just said, and eventually turned around ever so slowly. "What?"

"I've found a loophole. We can get you out of this contract, and you won't have to worry—"

"Are you insane? You think I'm just going to let everyone else deal with my mess?"

"Well, I—"

She took a step closer, getting up in his face. "Absolutely not. I will fix this, Ethan. I'm not going to run away from this."

"I didn't mean to… I thought…"

"Oh, you thought, did you? You of all people should know how important friends are to me. I will not leave them to—"

"Hunt isn't your friend, Danielle," he pointed out, and she suddenly felt like someone had stepped on her chest.

"Well… I mean… but Zoe and Chris and—"

Ethan shook his head. "This is about Hunt and you know it. Do you really think he wouldn't take this opportunity if he was in your position? Because if you do, you're unbelievably stupid. He wouldn't care what happens to you, so you shouldn't, either."

"You're wrong," she said, and she believed it. Because Thomas Hunt may have been many things, but a coward wasn't one of them.

"I take it that means you're not interested?"

"No, Ethan," she said exasperatedly. "I'm not fucking interested."

Thomas could think of a seemingly infinite number of places he would have rather been that Tuesday morning – one of them being hell because, surely, hell could not have been worse than working for Montmartre. But, alas, there was nothing he could do about the situation – for now. He would find a way to make him pay and, preferably, stop him once and for all. Because what had only been professional differences before had been made personal now, and Thomas would not let himself be bullied by men like him. Unfortunately, for the time being, he didn't have a choice. He had to comply with Montmartre's every demand, which was why he found himself addressing the cast and crew of Montmartre Pictures' newest blockbuster on Tuesday morning.

Though it wasn't quite the entire cast and crew. The first thing Thomas had noticed upon entering the soundstage was that one key member of the cast was missing – Danielle. He couldn't say he was surprised, however, as he had been her professor for several years, and he'd stopped counting how many times she'd been late to class or other important events after less than three months. So he began introducing himself and explaining his plans – which, first and foremost, included reshooting everything that had been shot with Phelps as a director – without waiting for her. But when she still hadn't come in once he was done, his agitation grew. He could understand why she didn't want to be here, but neither did he, and he'd come nonetheless.

Angrily, he made his way to the door in hopes of having better cell reception outside so he could call her, but then he saw her standing there, leaning against the wall right by the door. "Hey Hunt."

"Where have you been? You were supposed to be here at ten."

She raised an eyebrow. "I was. Or, well, may have been one or two minutes late, but I've caught pretty much all of your speech."

"And how come you haven't joined us?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Hunt, just fucking let it go. I'm tired, I'm pissed, and I'm just trying not to murder anyone here."

"Well, we all know we can't put that past you, so I suppose I'll count my blessings that you're trying," he said, immediately regretting it upon seeing the look on her face. "Danielle, I didn't mean—"

"Yes, you did," she said, her face hardening. "Come on, it's time to get to work. Let's have a look at that revised script, shall we?"

"Danielle, I'm—" he began, but it was clear she'd already stopped listening as she made her way to the rest of the group. He let out a huff, then followed her. That could have gone better.

He didn't get far, however, as he froze when he heard Montmartre's voice from behind him. "Well, well, well. A lovers' quarrel already? I suppose they do say never to mix pleasure with business. Though I, of course, disagree."

"What do you want?" Thomas asked, turning around to see the smirk on Montmartre's face.

"To see how everything is going, of course," he said. "I am still the producer of this movie. And I won't allow you two to mess with it."

"Don't you have better things to do?" If Montmartre was to be on set every day – which Thomas couldn't imagine he would, but who knew how far he'd go to torment him – this would be significantly worse than he'd imagine.

"Oh, I'm just going to check in at random times," he said with a sly smile. "But, make no mistake, you will be watched."

That, at least, was to be expected. "Yes, I imagine one of those PAs over there will be reporting our every word and interaction to you."

"Now, now, don't be so judgemental. I'm simply making sure this movie gets made. That's what we all want, isn't it? Speaking of – why don't we join the others? I believe you were planning on going over the new script with them, weren't you?"

Thomas huffed. The last thing he wanted to do was work with Montmartre in the room but, then again, he didn't have a choice. He only hoped he'd tire of being there soon and leave them alone. "Of course. Come with me."