The War God Alpha's Arranged Bride (Evelyn and Alexander) novel Chapter 294

**Steps Along Forgotten Roads**
**By Sophia Reed**
**Chapter 294: Movie Stars**

**Gavin’s POV**

Timing was everything, and Skyla Sinclair had a knack for making her entrance at the most inconvenient moments.

As I stood in front of the mirror, the crisp fabric of my shirt clinging to my skin, I caught glimpses of Judy, her graceful movements as she dressed captivating me. The sight of her was intoxicating, and I was painfully aware that I hadn’t finished dressing myself yet. But I had to remind myself that our private moments would have to wait; my workday loomed ahead, and I needed to focus. Once the day was over, I would make up for this lost time—getting her into bed was a promise I intended to keep.

For now, however, I had business to attend to.

The film crew had arrived, and they were settling into the villa. I had hoped to greet them upon their arrival, but they had evidently chosen to come earlier than expected.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured to Judy as I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me, feeling the warmth radiating from her body.

Her eyes sparkled as she smiled up at me, placing her delicate hands on my chest. She stood on her tiptoes, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on my lips.

“It’s okay. I get that you’re working,” she reassured me, a hint of understanding in her voice. “I’ll just see you later.”

I nodded, unable to resist the urge to kiss her again, pressing my lips against hers, deepening the connection for a brief moment before I reluctantly pulled away. After dropping Judy off at the mansion, I made my way to the villa, my mind buzzing with anticipation.

As I approached, I noticed a few cars parked outside, including a sleek limousine. Taylor stood by the doorway, his expression brightening when he spotted me.

“They’re inside waiting for you,” he informed me, his tone casual yet excited. “I showed them to their room, and they’ve settled in while they wait.”

I nodded in acknowledgment as I stepped into the villa.

As I neared the parlor, I overheard Irene’s enthusiastic voice, “I’m such a huge fan of yours! I have your posters all over my room. You’re my idol!”

A sigh escaped my lips; I should have known that Irene would be all over the movie star the moment she arrived. I braced myself for the task of prying my daughter away from Skyla Sinclair before they decided to take their project elsewhere.

Pushing open the parlor door, I paused at the threshold. My gaze swept across the room, taking in the unfamiliar security guards in the corner alongside my own, and the striking figures lounging on the couch—both men and women who looked like they had stepped straight out of a magazine. An older gentleman stood nearby, engaged in a serious conversation with one of the officers.

I recognized him from the photos—Chanse Wellington, the director. The glamorous individuals on the couch were undoubtedly the stars of the film, and the woman Irene was speaking to, the one who seemed to be the center of attention, was unmistakably Skyla Sinclair.

She was listening to Irene with a polite smile, but I could see the flicker of impatience in her eyes, as if she were waiting for a chance to escape the conversation. I decided it was time to intervene.

“Irene, give her some space,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, my tone firm.

Irene turned to me, her expression shifting to one of surprise as she frowned, hands planted defiantly on her hips.

“I’m only introducing myself,” she protested softly. “You’ll have plenty of time to talk to her later. Right now, let her settle in without being harassed by a crazed fan.”

Her mouth fell open in shock at my words, but she didn’t argue further. Instead, she excused herself and rushed out of the room, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I felt a pang of guilt for embarrassing her, but it was a fleeting thought.

Skyla rose from her seat, her attire leaving little to the imagination. The lacy jumper suit she wore was nearly transparent, revealing her model-like physique without a hint of modesty.

“Thanks for that,” she said, her smile radiant as she approached me. “I’m Skyla Sinclair.”

She extended her hand, and I took it, shaking it with a polite nod.

“Yes, I know,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, and she let out a soft, breathy laugh.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Alpha…” she purred, her voice dripping with charm.

I withdrew my hand and turned to Chanse Wellington, who was observing us with keen interest.

“Mr. Wellington, I presume?” I asked, offering my hand for a shake.

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