The autumn breeze nips at my bare shoulders as I stand on Oliver's penthouse balcony, forty stories above Manhattan. Below, the city glitters like scattered diamonds, oblivious to the turmoil in my heart. My fingers trace the cool metal railing, and I try to steady my breathing after another failed attempt to conceive.
My phone vibrates. Unknown number.
"Miss Sinclair?" A deep, unfamiliar voice fills my ear. "Maxwell Stone speaking."
My breath catches. Everyone in New York's financial district knows that name – Oliver's biggest rival.
"I have information you might find... interesting." His voice carries a hint of amusement. "About your family's company, and more importantly, about Oliver James."
I glance over my shoulder through the glass doors. Oliver sits at his desk, illuminated by
