Eleanor:
There’s a special kind of headache that comes with being both furious and hungry.
I’m currently enjoying both.
The Windsor Building’s corner office is silent, save for the steady tick of the clock and the low hum of my computer. The city stretches below me—gray contrete and polished ambition, a mirror of everything I’ve built for myself inside these walls. My world.
My empire.
Or it was, until my father decided to sell my future like a stock option.
I glance at the clock. 11:47 a.m. Two hours until my next meeting. Just enough time to drown my irritation in paperwork.
My phone lights up. Reign Sinclair.
Of course.
I consider ignoring it. Then I remember I’m supposed to be the cooperative fiancée. The obedient daughter. The perfect Windsor princess.
I swipe the call.
“R
