The warm glow of the morning sun spilled through the windows of Isabelle’s office, casting long golden beams across the polished floors. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, but the tension was unmistakable. Isabelle sat stiffly behind her desk, her fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the surface as she reread the news article flashing on her laptop screen.
“Sebastian Hale Breaks Silence on Custody Battle—‘I’ll Fight for My Children.’”
Her stomach twisted. The accompanying photo of Sebastian, composed and confident, felt like a taunt. The media had already begun spinning their narrative, painting him as the determined father willing to do anything for his kids.
A sharp knock interrupted her thoughts. “Come in,” she called, her voice clipped.
Marcus stepped inside,
