The morning after the Gala felt like the first day of a new era. The headlines were a frantic blur of gold and scandal: “THE RISE OF THE GOLDEN QUEEN” and “STERLING FALLS, VANE RISES.” But for Riana, sitting in the back of Albert’s armored car on the way to the office, the victory felt surprisingly quiet.
She looked at her hand—the gold band on her finger felt heavier now that she knew the true weight of the name it carried. Beside her, Albert was already back into "CEO mode," his fingers flying across a tablet. He looked different in the daylight; the mystery was gone, replaced by a formidable reality.
"You're unusually quiet," Albert said, not looking up from his screen. "Most people would be popping champagne after putting their enemies in handcuffs."
"I’m thinking about my mother,"
