Alexander's POV
Sterling's statement hit every major outlet by six a.m. I was already awake, already dressed, already three cups of coffee into the morning when Patricia forwarded me the links. I read them standing at the kitchen counter while the city below was still gray and quiet.
Sterling had stopped short of releasing the contract. Instead, he'd released a photograph, me and Emma at the charity gala before any of this started, with a caption suggesting the relationship had been manufactured for press purposes. It was thin. Circumstantial. But it was enough to make people ask questions.
David called at six fifteen.
"He's testing us," David said. "If we panic and overreact, he'll know the contract exists. If we stay quiet, the story fades in forty-eight hours."
"And if he actually
