Marcus hadn’t slept a single minute.
By the time dawn crept through the blinds, red veins had already spidered through his eyes. He came into the office still wearing yesterday’s shirt, his tie loose, his jaw shadowed with stubble. The anger was gone—but the cold, hollow calm that replaced it was somehow worse.
He and Allison had torn into each other the night before.
He’d wanted to believe her, wanted to believe there’d been some mistake—but the medical report screaming “0%” wouldn’t let him.
When she cried, he’d almost faltered. But her stubborn, wounded eyes insisting she’d done nothing wrong only made it worse.
For the first time, he wasn’t sure who he was furious at—her, his mother, or himself.
Was any of this worth it?
The company, the shares, the endless maneuvering…
His gaz
