Brielle’s POV
Brielle’s Office, Monday — 7:23 a.m.
The door clicked shut behind Tessa like the sealing of a tomb.
Brielle didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. She stared at the woman who had been at her side through every storm, every war, every c***k in the foundation.
Her voice came low. Controlled. Deadly.
“Start talking.”
Tessa didn’t cower. She didn’t run. She walked forward like a woman who’d already accepted her sins—and the cost of them.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” she said quietly. “At first, it was just little things. Schedules, tips about press coverage, leaks that wouldn’t affect you directly. Sean promised no one would get hurt. But then you started winning.”
A bitter smile curved her lips.
“You stopped being the victim. And that scared him.”
Brielle felt the burn in her
