Sebastian Hale had started the morning with a rare feeling—peace.
It clung to the edges of dawn, fragile and fleeting. Isabelle lay curled in their bed, her hand resting protectively over the soft rise of her stomach. Her face was serene, lips parted in sleep, the faintest smile lingering like a whisper. He paused at the door, memorizing it. Trying to believe that maybe—just maybe—this could last.
But peace never did. Not in his world.
By the time he stepped out of the car at Hale Capital’s downtown tower, James was already waiting at the curb, his face carved from tension.
“We’ve got a situation,” he said without preamble. “Anonymous email went to two board members. They’re questioning Isabelle’s integrity—implying she used her foundation connections to influence your recent philanthr
