Morning arrived without mercy.
Seraphina woke before dawn, her phone already vibrating with alerts. The legal notice Jonathan had filed was everywhere—stripped of nuance, dressed in speculation, and fed to headlines that thrived on uncertainty.
She sat up slowly, breathing through the initial rush of anger. This was the moment she had prepared for.
Lucien was already awake, standing by the window, tie in hand, eyes sharp as he scanned the skyline.
“They’re moving fast,” he said. “Faster than expected.”
“That’s because he’s afraid,” Seraphina replied, swinging her legs off the bed. “Fear accelerates mistakes.”
Lucien turned to her. “Legal is mobilizing. But the optics—”
“Let me handle the optics,” she interrupted gently. “You handle the machinery.”
He studied her for a long moment,
