- DECLAN
I walked out of the war room and didn’t stop until I hit the balcony. The mountain air was supposed to be a reset, but right now, it just felt thin. I leaned my weight onto the stone railing, my heart still thudding against my ribs from that blowout.
The weight of that black card felt like a hot coal in my pocket.
The truth was, Damian Wynther hadn't left a "Break Glass" fund. He hadn't left a dime that Aiden hadn't already sniffed out or frozen. Damian had been a good man, but he’d been too trusting until the very second the water filled his lungs. He hadn’t been a secretive planner; he was just a father who got outplayed.
I was the one who had spent the last decade bleeding my own accounts dry, routing my "consulting" fees through Cyprus and the Caymans, building a war chest
