The blinking transmitter felt like a live scorpion in Lena’s palm. Its discovery confirmed her worst fear: the enemy wasn’t just outside the gates; they had woven themselves into the very fabric of her production. She pocketed the device, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. To announce the breach would cause a panic, shatter the fragile trust on set, and grind their momentum to a halt. It was exactly what the saboteur ...