By the next morning, the headlines were louder than the city traffic outside their penthouse. Celeste sat at the kitchen counter with her hair still damp from the shower, flipping through a fresh stack of proposals that Damien had laid out for her.
Across from her, Damien leaned against the marble island, coffee in hand and his sleeves rolled up. He watched as her eyes skim iver each page, no rush, no push. Just a quiet guard at the gate.
She set one glossy folder down and tapped the cover. “So this is the big one?”
Damien nodded once. “Network exclusive. Prime-time special. An entire hour: your childhood, your scandals, your so-called redemption arc. They want all the tears with a polished ending. Four million upfront. Double that if you sign for follow-ups.”
Celeste snorted, shaking
