It wasn’t anger that burned through Daniel’s veins anymore—it was precision. Cold. Calculated. Purposeful.
The glow of the multiple monitors cast a faint blue light across his penthouse, where not a single curtain was drawn. He liked the transparency of glass—especially when others mistook it for vulnerability. But Daniel had never felt more in control.
On the center screen, paused in high definition, was Aria’s face.
Smiling.
Breathless.
Hands wrapped around *him*—Jerry Clark The secretary.
Or so everyone thought.
Daniel’s eyes narrowed on the man who had become a shadow behind his wife.
HIS WIFE.
“Jerry Clark!” he muttered, scrolling through financial reports, offshore accounts, and black-and-white surveillance photos. “CEO. Investor. Royal-class shareholder in tech, pharma, d
