The morning light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of CrossCorp, glinting off the polished surfaces and casting long shadows across the office. Normally, it was a place of power, control, and order—but today, it felt chaotic, like a storm had passed through and left debris in its wake. Damien’s phone buzzed incessantly on his desk, messages piling up faster than he could process them. Every ping sent his pulse racing, heart hammering with a mix of dread and anticipation.
Bella sat in his private penthouse suite, the first rays of sun painting her face in golden warmth. She hadn’t slept well; nights of anxiety, haunted by recent events, had left her body exhausted yet restless. Her mind kept returning to the scandalous videos—Marcus Kane had leaked private footage. Footage of
