"Marcus." Eleanor's voice cut through the tension before Whitmore could finish whatever he'd been about to say, calm and deliberate, refusing to let the room tip further into chaos than it already had. "Before Mr. Whitmore treats us to whatever else he's been quietly building, I believe you owe someone an answer first."
Marcus turned to look at me, and for a moment the entire room, Whitmore, Finch, the lawyers, Bianca and Julian holding hands at the far end of the table, all of it fell away into something quieter, more private, despite the audience.
"Sienna." His voice had lost the sharp edge it carried a moment ago, settling into something steadier, more certain than I'd heard from him in longer than I wanted to admit. "I meant what I said last night. Not because of the trust. Not becau
