The walls of the Sterling estate felt like they were vibrating with the force of Ivy’s heartbeat. Every corner she turned, she expected to see her father’s shadow or, worse, Silas’s piercing blue eyes. The realization that Silas had begun to piece together her secret identity felt like a noose tightening around her neck.
Desperate to create distance before the truth imploded, Ivy confronted Arthur in his study. The room was a tomb of dark mahogany and cold marble. She pleaded for a "recovery vacation" in the Maldives, her voice thin and rehearsed, claiming the stress of the team’s publicity was taxing her health. But Arthur didn't even look up from his ledger. With a cold, dismissive flick of his pen, he denied her.
He needed his "Princess" visible to charm the sponsors, and he needed he
