Ethan’s POV I felt Olivia’s fingers wrap around my wrist. She was trembling slightly, her breath uneven, eyes locked onto mine like they were searching for something stable to cling to.“Ethan,” she whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face, her voice fragile, yet laced with concern. “Are you okay?”I didn’t answer immediately. My mind was still reeling from the confrontation, my heart still pounding from how close we’d come to something that couldn’t be undone. The venom in Cole’s voice, the wild desperation in his eyes as he yanked Olivia from my reach, it all replayed in an endless loop.“I should be asking you that,” I said finally, my voice low. I looked her over, scanning for bruises, scratches, anything. My hand rose, cupping her cheek, my thumb brushing gently across her skin. “Are you hurt anywhere?”She opened her mouth to answer, but the thunder of footsteps cut her off.Fast. Heavy. Furious.Victor Sinclair came charging into the courtyard like a storm that had b

Vanessa’s POV "You can't be serious! Ethan? A Sinclair?!"My voice cracked the air like a whip, shattering the calm of the penthouse suite. The wineglass in my hand trembled from the force of my grip, and I was moments away from hurling it at the floor just to hear something break. Clarisse didn’t even flinch. She lounged on the edge of my vanity, filing her nails with maddening indifference. "Vanessa, it's been weeks. This obsession is starting to get sad.""Sad?" I whirled on her. "The man I threw away is now sitting on top of the world, and I’m supposed to... what? Smile through my teeth while my career disintegrates?" Clarisse popped a gum bubble. "Maybe you shouldn’t have left him."I stared her down, seething. Wash she even my friend or his? "He wasn’t supposed to become a Sinclair." "Well, he did. And judging by that last press conference, the world is buying into the news which further solidifies his position there. Golden boy from the ashes, heir to a billion-dollar thron

Ethan’s POV "Clara, I need that report. Now."My voice cracked through the silence in my office, slicing the calm like a scalpel to skin. I didn't have time for pleasantries or second guesses. Not anymore. The scent of revenge isn’t sweet, it’s sharp. Metallic. It clings to the air like blood on steel. It doesn’t offer peace. It promises war. My office assistant Clara appeared at the doorway, her tablet in one hand, a thick brown file in the other. Her heels struck the marble floor with rapid precision, each step echoing like a countdown to someone’s downfall. "Here’s everything we’ve pulled so far on the Hale subsidiaries," she said, setting the file down with a weighty thud. "Financial records, front companies, shell firms. You name it." I opened it with the kind of urgency that only comes from deep-rooted pain. Page after page was covered in numbers, signatures, bank accounts, and movement logs. I’d trained myself to read between the lines—and the Hales had a lot hiding betwee

Ethan's POV “You look like a mad scientist about to detonate something,” Olivia said, leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, one brow arched in mock judgment. “Should I be worried?” I jolted upright, nearly knocking over my mug of half-cold coffee. How long had she been standing there? How did she get into my room and I wasn't even aware. “Damn, Olivia,” I said, pressing a hand to my chest. “You trying to kill me with a heart attack?” She smiled, that soft but knowing curve of her lips that always managed to both irritate and disarm me. “I knocked , twice. You didn’t flinch. I had to assume you were either dead or plotting something dangerous.” I chuckled, but it came out hollow. “Maybe a little bit of both.” Her eyes flicked to the spread of documents on my desk, the ones I hadn’t managed to hide fast enough. Incriminating photos, financial records, under-the-table transactions that Nathan thought buried. Her gaze narrowed.“What are you working on that’s so...classified?”

Vanessa’s POV The boardroom was a pressure cooker, the air thick with unspoken accusations and simmering tensions. Sunlight streamed through the expansive windows, casting long shadows over the polished mahogany table where Hale Pharmaceuticals' future hung in the balance.My father, sat at the helm, his expression a mask of controlled fury. To his right, my brother Nathan shifted uncomfortably, his usual bravado noticeably absent. I occupied the seat to Richard's left, my notepad open but untouched, bracing for the storm about to break.The shareholders, a mix of seasoned investors and newer stakeholders, exchanged uneasy glances. The recent scandal had shaken their confidence, and the cracks in our foundation were beginning to show.Mr. Langley, a senior shareholder with a penchant for bluntness, broke the silence. "Richard, this debacle has left us exposed. The media is relentless, and our stock is in freefall."Father's jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the tabl