"Moira! Come down! I know that man forced you to be there. Don't let him destroy our marriage!"
Olivian Dunne's voice echoed across the spacious grounds of the Quinn mansion, shattering the peaceful morning calm.
He stood in an expensive, slightly rumpled suit, his face contorted with exaggerated anxiety.
Behind him, two men with cell phone cameras recorded everything—paid reporters ready to create a hostage narrative to pressure Adrian Quinn.
Moira stood on the balcony, clutching the iron railing with white knuckles.
Beside her, Aidrian stood tall with his hands calmly tucked in his pants pockets. His aura was so strong that the air around them felt heavy.
"Do you want me to come down, Olivian?" Moira's voice was low, yet it sounded full of courage she had never possessed before.
