The city hadn’t woken yet, but the penthouse already felt alive with tension. The faint hum of morning traffic below barely cut through the thick silence that hung between Tracy and Alex. She sat at the edge of the breakfast counter, clutching a mug that had long gone cold. Across from her, Alex scrolled through files on his tablet, his jaw tight enough to c***k marble.
They hadn’t spoken much since the confrontation the night before. Too many truths had been dragged into the light — Carter’s interference, the betrayal that had rippled through Alex’s empire, and the quiet, sharp realization that Tracy was no longer a pawn in this game. She was a piece that mattered.
Finally, Alex broke the silence. “If Carter’s been planting stories, he’s not doing it alone.”
Tracy glanced up, her eyes
