The morning broke red over the old Morreau estate, a bloody sun splitting the horizon. Jaxon didn’t notice it. He stood in front of the massive glass wall of his office, phone buzzing endlessly on the desk behind him, and stared at the city below as if he could crush it with his eyes.
The article was everywhere. Everywhere. Not just in the underground feeds where Raven’s pieces normally lived. This had been fed directly to the largest media outlets, splashed on front pages, dissected by anchors with sharp smiles. Names were named. Deals were described. The kind of information only someone on the inside would know.
And at the bottom of every column, stamped like a bullet casing, was the byline, Raven Knight.
Jaxon hadn’t seen her yet. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to. Rage, cold and surgic
