The Line
Saturday afternoon brought Greer to the door. He arrived in person — rare enough that I knew the situation had escalated. Lucian let him in without a word. The three of us ended up in the living room, the grey sofa suddenly feeling like a battlefield. Greer looked uncomfortable the moment he saw me sitting beside Lucian instead of standing behind him like an assistant. He glanced between us once, then twice, before opening his folder. “Irina’s legal team responded faster than expected,” he said, voice carefully neutral. “It’s… more aggressive than we anticipated.” He slid a document across the low table. I picked it up first. My stomach dropped as I read. It wasn’t just a counter-motion. It was a targeted character attack. They were questioning my professional qualifications, suggest
- Writer
