Maeve’s POV
I wasn’t waiting around for the apex alpha to swallow his pride and lift the freeze. I’d left that habit of sitting on my hands for a man’s permission back in Frost Rainbow territory. If Maddox wanted to use his corporate monopoly to choke my business, I was more than happy to flip his entire chessboard upside down.
By three o’clock that afternoon, the raw, unfinished recital hall at Ashford Music Studio was flashing with the blinding bursts of professional cameras.
"Just a little to the left, Ms. Ashford. Let the light hit the blueprint," the photographer instructed, snapping a rapid succession of shots.
Standing beside him was Clara Vance-Vane, not a member of Maddox's immediate bloodline but the city’s most influential, sharp-tongued cultural journalist whose weekly colu
