Morning light spilled into Marrin's penthouse through half-drawn blinds, cold and sharp like a blade. She hadn't slept. The storm had passed hours ago, but the air still smelled like electricity and salt — the quiet aftermath before another battle began.
She sat at her desk, staring at her phone. The headlines were multiplying by the minute.
"Vivienne Lane Speaks Out: 'Forgiveness Is All I Can Offer.'""Charity Scandal or Corporate Feud? Socialite's Sudden Return Raises Questions.""Marrin Reeves — Angel or Avenger?"
Each line sliced through her calm façade. She'd expected resistance, yes. But she hadn't expected the scale — the coordinated rhythm, the perfect timing. Derek and Vivienne weren't just fighting back; they were controlling the narrative.
Liam entered quietly, setting a tray
