The video was still everywhere.
Clips on t****k. Blurred screenshots on Reddit. An article titled The Mistress Behind the Billionaire had already hit the Daily Reveal. And even though their faces were half-shadowed, everyone knew.
Alina Thorne.
Nicholas Stone.
Caught in the act.
And someone had filmed it from his office.
The betrayal carved itself deeper.
Alina sat cross-legged on the sofa, laptop open, sleeves rolled up. She was fury in silk and eyeliner, her fingers flying across the keys like she was casting a spell.
Nicholas stood behind her, watching her build a digital missile.
“Who’s she?” he asked when a face popped up on the screen—sharp cheekbones, blood-red lips, and a voice that could cut glass.
“My old roommate from Milan. PR genius. Got fired from Sasha’s agency for
