The morning sun broke over the horizon, casting long shadows across the penthouse. Damien stood by the windows, his dark suit immaculate, his posture rigid. The tension in the room was palpable, a reflection of the storm brewing outside their walls. The news of Antonov’s press conference had spread like wildfire, painting Damien as the villain in a scandalous public feud.
Isabella watched him from the kitchen, her coffee untouched. Her chest tightened as she studied the man she had come to love and fear in equal measure. Damien Morrison was powerful, calculating, and determined. But now, with his reputation hanging by a thread, she saw the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide.
“We don’t have to go,” she said softly, breaking the silence.
Damien turned to her, his dark eyes meeting her
