Antonio Wayne listened as Ricardo and Victor discussed the present situation. He was always careful not to intrude on their father/son dynamic, but he would weigh in when the time was right.

“I’ve made no secret of the fact that I am not fond of the idea of you and your brother going to Guatemala,” Ricardo was saying. “You’ll have your hands full here when she arrives; you could always let someone else be the bad guy. Just say the word and I’ll arrange it. Either way, I think it’s time that you reveal yourself to her, let her know the role you already play in her life. Play your ace in the hole, as the Americans say.”

Victor could feel his uncle’s piercing gaze bearing down on him. The man was forever studying people. It didn’t matter how many years he knew a person, he had an innate desire to read their inner motives. Victor had learned long ago to not take it personally. After all, he wasn’t a man who buckled under pressure, he thrived on it.

“I’m looking forward to seeing that weasel’s face when I tell him I know everything he’s been doing, and that he’s about to lose his best client. I’m going to be honest with you, Father, I have a real problem with the little fucker taking credit for all the things I’ve done for Valentina.”

Ricardo straightened in his chair, causing his intimidating size to appear even more formidable. “There are times when a man has to put his ego aside to gain the results he wants.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that I want to feel my hand around his throat squeezing the life from his body. My sources tell me he’s been pursuing some less-than-stellar roles for her. I don’t like what I’m hearing.”

“Forget about him. How about focusing instead on how good it will feel to finally have your woman’s body under you,” Ricardo growled.

There would be no changing his father’s mind. The twins knew how far they could push their father and it was obvious he wasn’t budging on this matter. In his father’s eyes, Valentina was a huge business opportunity. She would be a tremendous asset to their plans to monopolize the Latin American television market.

“The first thing you’re going to do is deal with that agent of hers. Luis has no idea you know what he’s been up to; you have the upper hand, now use it.”

“Yes, sir.” Victor’s tone was even-keeled but his father knew him well enough to know the agent would regret the day he ever heard the Ramirez name.

If Valentina was anything, she was resourceful and she had good instincts. The fact that her agent held power over her career made her tend to be suspicious of his motives. It was time to find out exactly what was going on behind the scenes. She suspected he was lying to her and it was time to either confirm her suspicions or put them to rest. Either way, knowing more would give her the one thing that had been so elusive of late: peace of mind. It was also going to give her the control that was her God given right to have.

She could feel her adrenaline pumping as she made her way through the darkened hallways of the television studio, which had been abandoned hours ago by employees who had gone home to their families. She wondered sometimes what it would be like to have a significant other waiting for her and maybe two or three little sets of pattering feet on ceramic tile flooring, but she had given up that dream when she chose to be married to her career.

She stopped outside Luis’ office and took a moment to listen and take in her surroundings. Though there was a security guard on duty, he was most likely doing what he always did, sleeping on the job or playing a computer game. She reached into her jean pocket and pulled out the copy of his office key she’d had the foresight to obtain months ago.

She paused for a moment to struggle with her conscience. Was this breaking and entering? Not if she had a key, right? No matter how she’d gotten it…

She’d always approached her career with the mindset of ‘go big or go home’. That meant dreaming big. Though her dreams were big she wasn’t like most of the actresses she worked with who thought nothing of fucking their way to the top; she believed her work spoke for itself. Other actresses were often catty, too. More than once she’d seen one actress sabotage another’s wardrobe, lines, and anything else they could. None of them were beyond stepping on the back of a fellow actress to climb their way up the proverbial ladder of success.

Valentina was a perfectionist. While other actresses were out partying, she was memorizing dialogue. Hours were spent in front of a mirror perfecting facial expressions to ensure they were realistic with the scenes she played. She put in the time because she had every intention of making it big—the right way. But that didn’t mean she shouldn’t look out for her own interests, even if she had to sneak around a little to do it.

Her decision made, she unlocked the door and pulled out the small flashlight she was carrying in her jacket pocket. She followed the beam of light to Luis’ desk, determined to find out what the hell her agent was hiding from her.

She stifled back a cry when she bumped her leg on the edge of the heavy, antique desk. Her agent had spared no expense when it came to furniture. He had an image to uphold, after all, and he’d had no trouble letting Valentina pay for it one way or another. After he hired her he brought in a decorator to furnish his personal space with upscale furniture, lavish rugs, and costly art. No wonder the bastard was being so evasive of late, he didn’t want to lose his ride on the gravy train.

There on the desk was a file with her name on it. She was shocked when she opened it and saw a picture of a stranger—a good looking stranger. No, not entirely a stranger, actually; she had seen him once before. It had been a brief introduction but he’d made a lasting impression. She often had to ‘meet and greet’ with special guests who were getting a tour of the studio, so the meeting itself hadn’t been out of the ordinary. But the man himself certainly was. Dark hair and black eyes stared back at her, a strong, angular face with prominent cheekbones and an aquiline nose that suggested a man who personified power and determination.

Who are you? There it was, jotted down in Luis’ rambling scrawl in the lower corner: Ricardo Victor Ramirez Jr. The words rolled off her tongue with ease and she had to stifle the urge to squeeze her thighs together at the memory of the way he’d looked at her during their brief encounter so long ago. An unfamiliar warmth flooded through her core, causing her to second guess her choice to abstain from male companionship. She was a strong-willed woman and it would take a certain type of man to interest her. Maybe someone like him.

She moved over to the copy machine and copied the documents in the folder so she could go over them later when she had more time. She closed the folder and then decided she wanted one more thing: that picture. Whoever this guy was, he was fucking hot and she wanted to know why Luis had his photo in her file.

She turned the copier off after she finished, grabbed a paperclip from the desk and clipped the papers together. She closed the door behind her and locked it, then tiptoed down the darkened hallway toward her dressing room. She was so entrenched in thought that she didn’t see the security guard until he spoke to her.

“I came in here to check on you when I saw lights on. I thought everyone was gone for the night.”

Valentina jerked back against the wall and pressed her hand to her chest, which sent papers scattering all over the floor. He reached down to pick up the papers. She bent down at the same time, almost bumping heads with him in her haste to get to the documents before he did.

She proceeded into her dressing room and smoothly placed the papers on her vanity. Turning to grace him with her most persuasive, starlet smile, she said, “That’s so sweet of you. It’s always good to know there’s a hero around.”

Two weeks later, Valentina was in front of yet another vanity mirror, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves as she studied her dialogue in her new dressing room. Luis had come through with the movie role after all. A romantic suspense flick that would not be appearing in any movie theaters but would instead go ‘straight to video’, which according to Luis meant that it would be in more hands faster and with less overhead costs. She worried that such a project didn’t have the star-maker stature that she had expected, but Luis assured her that all was well.

The timing couldn’t have been more perfect, with production scheduled to wrap just in time for another telenovela to begin shooting. At the moment, she was between scenes, waiting for Luis to swing by before lunch to check on her as promised. She needed to talk to him about Mateo.

She had been on the set for three days and so far, so good. The crew was professional and the director, Ramone Ortiz, seemed to know exactly what he wanted. The only problem so far was her co-star, Mateo Vasquez. Mateo was an up and coming young actor with a big ego and wandering hands. She could barely concentrate on finding her mark when she had to keep moving his hands off her ass or back down to her waist. He was clever too, always managing to work the not-so-innocent touches into a scene or touching her when she was out of camera range. And he kept saying he couldn’t wait to turn up the heat with her. What the hell was he talking about? She had seen the script and she would hardly call one chaste kiss in the final scene ‘heat’.

The script left a bit to be desired. The dialogue sounded stiff to her, way too formal. She wondered if the director would be open to her improvising some new lines to make the conversation sound more natural. It was worth a try. In the meantime, she was irritated to have to suffer through her next scene in nothing but a skimpy negligee. At least it came with a silk robe that would provide some cover from Mateo’s roaming paws. She’d keep the belt tied unless someone told her to do otherwise.

She wanted this role badly enough that she was willing to endure the occasional scripted embrace with Mateo since they were surrounded by the crew and under the supervision of the director. Luis had assured her she was in good hands and that she could feel comfortable doing whatever the director asked of her, so against her better judgment she forced herself to relax about it.

“How’s my favorite rising star doing?” Luis breezed into the dressing room holding a sheath of papers by his side.

“Doing fine, Luis. Just ready to get this next scene done. Mateo is plucking my last nerve, I just want to get it over with.”

“Great, great,” he said absently. “Listen, I’ve got some last-minute changes to the next scene, you need to study them and be ready to show them what a professional you are.” He handed the papers to her and she flipped through them, looking for any additional lines or stage direction.

“What? I-I don’t understand…” she sputtered as color rose in her cheeks.

“What’s to understand? You read the script, you memorize your lines, you stand on your mark, and follow the script,” he drawled.

“No, it’s just…I mean…Well, I can’t do this,” she said with a scowl as she scanned the new pages. “Luis, this says I’m supposed to let Mateo stick his tongue in my mouth while he removes my robe. I’m supposed to stand there wearing next to nothing and let him start kissing and touching me.”

At his impatient look, she flipped to the next page and gasped. “Then I’m supposed to let the negligee drop to the floor?! Luis, I’m not wearing anything under this robe and negligee.”

“And your point is…?”

“Well, it gets worse, look at this. It just says that additional stage direction for the love scene on the bed will be provided on-set.”

“Right. It’ll be a closed set, Val, just you and Matteo, the director, the continuity girl, the camera and lighting crew, the makeup artist. Very, very private.”

“Doesn’t sound too private to me. I don’t do nudity, Luis. You know that.”

“Yes, you do, according to the contract addendum you signed, not to mention the contract you signed for this film. I’m here to remind you of your responsibilities, Valentina, as is my right and obligation as your agent.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I was worried you might not, so I brought along a copy of the addendum to refresh your memory. It says here that you authorize me to secure movie roles in which you agree to perform nude or semi-nude and that you agree to full contact with your co-stars as required, up to and including performing certain simulated sexual acts as required for the artistic integrity of the film.”

“What?!” She snatched the document from his hands and stared down at her signature below those very words. Shit.

“You know nudity is no big deal these days. It’s perfectly acceptable, even expected, when it’s art. This will be art. And you’ve kept yourself under wraps so thoroughly in your previous roles that the chance to see Valentina Vargas nude practically guarantees big box office sales. Your tits all by themselves are worth millions, trust me. And that’s what it’s all about. Fame and fortune. This will make you a household name, just like you’ve always wanted.”

“No, I can’t go out there and--”

“And just think,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “years from now when you’re old and shriveled up like an old prune, your perfect curves will be preserved on film for posterity. You’ll be forever young, just like you said. Now, you’ll be on set in five minutes, ready to give yourself to your art,” he said pleasantly before he straightened, his features becoming hard and forbidding, “or I will sue you for breach of contract. Because once word gets out that you won’t show a little skin when asked, you’ll never work again. And that, my dear, would be detrimental to my cash flow.”

“Cut!” The director’s voice cut through the silence and was quickly joined by the collective groans of the cast and crew at yet another delay. “C’mon, Valentina, I’d like to see my family again someday. Can you just stay on your mark, please?” He tugged on her shoulders as he moved her into position directly in front of her smirking co-star. “Now, this is an important moment in this couple’s relationship and when you step away from Mateo like that, you fuck up the lighting. Just stay on your mark. Don’t. Move. When it’s your turn, speak. Hell, you don’t even have any lines in this scene until you move over to the bed.”

Valentina’s eyes widened at that, so he quickly stepped away to his director’s chair. “Just stand there on the big X and let Mateo do his thing.” At her frown, he went very still. “Is there a problem? Women around the world would give their left tit to be in your position right now. C’mon, let’s get this done. Valentina, I need you to convince me that you’re enjoying it, too, that you want it. Okay, once more, everyone. And Valentina, stay on your damn mark this time, okay?”

She stepped into place and took a deep, shuddering breath as the makeup girl applied a light dusting of powder to her face before stepping out of camera range. Valentina met Mateo’s smug gaze, narrowing her eyes at him in warning. He raised his eyebrows in an innocent “Who, me?” expression that really was Oscar-worthy.

“Okay, everyone. Aaaaand, action!”

Mateo’s eyes became heavy-lidded and sultry as he stepped toward her. He circled her once, coming to a stop behind her with his hands resting on her shoulders. “You’re too tense, querida. Here, let me help you relax.” He gathered her hair over one shoulder and began softly massaging her neck and shoulders. He stepped closer to her, pressing his chest against her back. That was her cue, so she reluctantly let her head loll back onto his shoulder, closed her eyes, and waited. She didn’t have to fake her ragged breathing as she struggled to stay on her mark. All she wanted was to run like hell back to her dressing room.

Mateo slid his arms around her waist and untied the sash of the robe. He ran his hands up her arms until his fingertips rested on the bare skin of her neck just beneath the collar of the robe. He pressed his lips to the side of her neck and she shuddered with revulsion. Mateo chuckled by her ear – a sound so low that she knew it was meant for only her to hear.

“Still so tense,” he murmured against her skin for the benefit of the camera. “I know just what you need, what we both need.” And with that, he slid the robe from her shoulders and the fabric puddled on the floor at her feet. He resumed massaging her shoulders, but this time he let his fingertips dip below her collarbones, stroking her skin and coming precariously close to her cleavage. When she stiffened at his touch, he tightened his grip on her shoulders. “Relax,” he bit out. The words, whispered solely for her benefit, were barely audible in her ear.

He slipped a fingertip beneath each of the negligee’s delicate straps and slowly slid them over her shoulders. The straps dipped precariously over her upper arms, with the silky fabric held aloft only by the curve of her breasts jutting out on a fierce inhalation. She held her breath, knowing that one wrong move would send the fabric straight to the floor.

Determined to help things along, Mateo grasped her by the hips and pulled her back against him. As the fabric began its downward slide toward her nipples and beyond, he pulled her even closer until his erection was nestled between her ass cheeks.

“Oomph!” A swift elbow to his ribs had him blowing out a lungful of air as he bent over double and grabbed onto a nearby chair.

“That does it!” Valentina fumed, crossing her arms over her chest just in time to avoid a dreaded ‘nip slip’. As he stood, he pointed at her angrily and opened his mouth to speak. Without missing a beat, Valentina slapped him with everything she had. “You call that acting?! I don’t think the script called for a hard-on.”

“It’s implied,” he smirked, still wincing and holding his side. “What can I say? I’m a method actor. Gotta keep it real.”

“Cut!” Ramone groaned as he rose from his chair and stormed over. “What is it now?!”

As she backed away from Mateo, Valentina slid the shoulder straps back into place and picked the robe up off the floor. With the sash securely tied in a double-knot at her waist, she spun around to face the director. “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “I can’t do this.”

“What?! No, there is no ‘not doing this’. Do you know how much money you’re costing me with these delays?”

She glanced around helplessly and caught Luis’ eye from where he stood in the shadows by the stage door. His face was twisted with rage, his fists clenched at his sides. There would be no help from him, so she walked away, leaving raised voices and mayhem in her wake.

“You don’t walk off my set!” the director shrieked at her retreating back. “You do this and you’re finished! You hear me?! Luis, grow some balls and control your client!”

She just kept walking and took refuge in her dressing room, locking the door behind her and gathered her personal belongings. Then she called her driver to take her home.