The penthouse was quiet in the way that made every creak of the floorboards sound like a scream. Raven perched at the edge of the leather sofa, laptop open but forgotten, fingers resting on the keyboard like she might strike at any moment. She had spent hours combing through Evelyn’s financials, the coded payment ledgers, shipping manifests, and old intelligence reports that left no doubt. Her pulse thrummed not from fear alone, but from the sheer immensity of what she had uncovered.
She had wanted to protect Jaxon. She had wanted him to stay just the way he was, cold, commanding, untouchable and untouched by the reality of his mother’s full reach, but secrets didn’t wait for consent. Secrets had a way of clawing through the skin until they surfaced, and now the truth sprawled across the
