Layla's pov
The storm inside our home had nothing to do with the weather.
No thunder cracked through the sky. No rain battered the windows. But the air felt charged. The silence was electric—just before lightning strikes.
Damian slammed the folded newspaper onto the kitchen counter so hard the ceramic fruit bowl rattled. The headline on the front page stared back at me in bold, brutal print:
“More Lies Uncovered? Amara’s Legacy Under Siege.”
“Enough is enough,” he growled, his voice sharp with fury. “We need to go after them. Legally. Sue for defamation. Find whoever leaked those documents and make them pay.”
I sat across from him in silence, my hands wrapped around a coffee mug I hadn’t touched in an hour. The coffee had gone cold. Bitter. Like guilt left out too long.
“That won’t
