REBECCA’S POV
Marcus called at 2:47 on Wednesday afternoon.
I was in the study working through the final approvals on the new collection, fabric samples spread across the desk, color swatches clipped to the edge, the specific focus that had been saving me across the past weeks. The kind of focus where the rest of the world disappears and there is only the work and the decision in front of you and nothing else.
The phone rang.
I did not recognize the number. I almost did not answer. Then I saw the secondary line, the one Marcus used when he was calling from his office rather than his personal phone, and I picked up.
“Rebecca,” he said. No greeting. No preamble. “I need to tell you something and I need you to listen without interrupting.”
Every muscle in my body went still.
“Edmund
