Isla Calloway had spent years fighting to be seen.
She had clawed her way through boardrooms filled with men who underestimated her, fought battles against those who wanted to strip her of power, and built an empire on the ruins of her father’s legacy.
But nothing—nothing—could have prepared her for this.
For the truth that had been kept from her.
For the man she was about to meet.
Her real father.
The Kingmaker.
Lucas paced the length of Isla’s penthouse, his green eyes burning with frustration as he spoke into his phone.
"More security," he growled. "I don’t care how much it costs. We don’t know what we’re walking into."
He ended the call and turned to Isla, his jaw clenched.
"This is a mistake."
Isla crossed her arms, standing firm. "It’s necessary."
Lucas exhaled sharply. "
