Claret stood at the mini-bar tucked in the far corner of the living room. The crystal decanter glinted under the low lamp. She tipped the bottle. Whiskey splashed into the glass, too much, too fast. She threw it back in one swallow. The burn raced down her throat, sharp and familiar.
Two days, she had avoided the Valenti empire, Shareholders blowing her phone off, her face had turned pale, just last night Elena had joined, blowing up
her phone, her best frenemy turned in-law, whatever she had to say would be in her best interest, Claret knew that too well.
Her eyes, red and puffy, dropped to the newspaper spread open on the counter. Headlines screamed in thick black letters:
‘VALENTI HEIRESS MISSING AFTER WEDDING SCANDAL
STOCKS PLUNGE 18% — SHAREHOLDERS DEMAND RESIGNATION FROM VALENTI
