—Ethan’s Pov
I had power. Influence. Money. But in this moment… it meant nothing.
None of it stopped Maurice from slipping out of a locked cell. None of it shielded Sophia from the media’s wildfire.
None of it undid the violation of our privacy, the footage now dissected by morning talk shows like we were nothing but scandal fodder.
My phone hadn’t stopped vibrating.
Not with Lincoln’s updates. Not with Old Master’s silence. Not with Ivory’s press stunt—now painting herself as the “woman scorned who only wanted justice for a broken engagement.” God, the audacity.
I’d seen manipulative. I’d lived with snakes.
But this? This was venom fed straight into the veins.
Sophia stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of my study, arms wrapped around herself, face blank. Not sad. Not afraid. Just… still.
And I hated it.
I hated the stillness in her more than I hated the war that was brewing.
I walked up behind her, slow, careful. “You should rest.”
She didn’t turn. “I won’t sleep.”
Neither would I
