Marcus
Sleep has become a luxury.
I stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse, one hand tucked into my pocket, the other wrapped around a glass of untouched whiskey. Below me, the city glittered with life, cars moving like streams of light, people living lives I couldn’t care less about tonight.
My mind refused to quiet.
Brianna.
The DNA test.
The accusation.
None of it made sense.
I had replayed that day more times than I cared to admit. The shock on her face. The confusion. The hurt hidden beneath her attempt to stay composed.
No.
Something was wrong.
Terribly wrong.
I exhaled slowly.
I trusted my instincts, and my instincts had never failed me.
Brianna did not fake anything.
She was not some random outsider trying to infiltrate the Hemsworth family.
She
