Alina didn’t sleep.
She stood on the balcony at dawn, wearing only Nicholas’s black shirt, unbuttoned to the navel, her skin kissed by the cold.
Her city pulsed below her. Every tower, every shadow, every whisper—now hers.
Behind her, Nicholas lay shirtless across the silk sheets, bruised from the night before. Marked by her hands, her mouth, her power.
But Alina wasn’t looking at him.
She was staring at the newsfeed playing on the glass wall across the room.
GRACE VANCE—CONFIRMED DEAD.
HER DAUGHTER TAKES CONTROL OF VANCE-CORP.
IS ALINA CAIN A CEO OR A WARLORD?
They didn’t know the half of it.
She walked into the conference chamber that morning bare-faced, no armor, no mask. Still smelling like s*x and salt and blood.
And every man in that room shifted in his seat.
She didn’t s
