Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 749

When Kaitlyn left the Dawson family home, the early spring air felt colder than usual. Every time she walked out of that place, it was like the weight of the world settled on her shoulders.

Alan had always treated her well-and she owed him for it. That kind of kindness was a debt she couldn't just shrug off.

She gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. Half a year. That's all that was left. Three years had already passed; what was a few more months? Besides, with the way Jackson seemed to hate her, even if he had another three years, he'd never set foot in their so-called marital home.

Maybe that was for the best.

Driving to her studio, Kaitlyn couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The mood today felt tense-like everyone was waiting for bad news.

She turned to her assistant. "What's going on?"

Her assistant blushed, fidgeting with her phone. "You know that movie we signed onto with the director? The investors just switched. The new backer's a big deal— like, way out of our league. Their rep is here and wants to talk with you."

Kaitlyn's eyebrows drew together. She only managed six artists-none of them stars, just bit parts in films. But movies were the fastest way for them to move up, and she'd worked hard to build good relationships with a few directors. She couldn't afford to mess that up, and she definitely couldn't afford to lose the investors.

Some days, she really was just another person struggling to keep her job.

She pushed open her office door and stopped short. Sitting in her chair, flipping through a magazine, was Jackson.

didn't even look up at first-just lazily turned a page, like he

smile out of habit, but the second she realized who it was, her

"You don't look

set him off. Normally, a guy with his ego wouldn't

glanced at the director hovering

got money to burn. Says he'll up the budget, but wants to personally approve

was

friends now. She

choice. You know how powerful the Dawsons are, right? Once Jackson got involved, all the other investors bailed. We spent months kissing up to them, and now no one else will touch the project. We just have to see

hear their whispers to know what was going on. It was obvious: he was too much trouble, and his presence had scared

he cared. That was just business-the weak get

chair, perfectly at ease,

director wiped sweat from his forehead and quickly made his exit,

at

wave. "Funny running into you here. Didn't we just

you want? This is just a small studio. Can't you give me a

her fountain pen, actually—his long fingers