Serena’s POV
The penthouse is a cocoon of shadows at midnight, the city lights flickering like distant stars beyond the windows. The text from the unknown number—“Resign, or the twins know your shame”—burns in my mind, a cryptic threat that chills me to the bone. I sit on Adrian’s plush sofa, my crimson dress rumpled from our earlier passion, my body still humming from his touch. His arm is around me, his warmth a stark contrast to the cold dread pooling in my stomach. The TV drones with Lila’s smug voice, the exposé’s delay a temporary reprieve, but the “twins” mention gnaws at me—am I being targeted personally, or is this a bluff to break me?
“Talk to me,” Adrian murmurs, his lips brushing my temple, his hand resting on my thigh, fingers tracing idle circles that send shivers up my spi
