Monday morning hit like a slap. Rain drizzled down the tall windows of Jones & Co., but inside the office, the temperature was rising.
Grace walked in first, heels echoing with purpose, tailored navy trousers skimming her ankles and a cream blouse buttoned just enough to say she meant business. Her hair was slicked back in a low twist, eyes sharp, jaw set.
Behind her, Jullian kept pace, coffee in one hand, tablet in the other, his expression unreadable. He wore all black, intentional. It matched the mood.
“Everyone in the boardroom. Ten minutes,” Grace announced as she swept past the front desk.
There was no smile, no pleasant greetings. Just the scent of danger, and the unmistakable air that someone’s head was about to roll.
Inside her father's glass office, she shut the door and tur
