The ThorneCorp tower gleamed like a weapon in the rising sun.
And inside, Nicholas Thorne stood in front of the mirror, tying his black silk tie with the steadiness of a man about to go to war.
Across the room, Alina sat on the bed, still naked beneath the white sheet, watching him with stormy eyes.
“You don’t have to face them alone,” she said.
His mouth quirked. “They already came for me. Now it’s my turn.”
Alina rose, walked to him, and helped adjust his collar.
He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. “And if any of them dare look at you wrong, I’ll slit their ambition with a smile.”
She shivered.
Not from fear.
From the promise.
The board meeting was at 10 a.m.
The conference room was filled with men in overpriced suits, aged smiles, and a stench of desperation.
Victor D
