MasukI ordered wine. The work wasn't finished. The room was quieter. She took the glass without comment. Drank. Set it down and kept writing. She spoke about the eastern corridor communities directly, without framing or adjustment, as if they existed in the room with us. Her hand moved as she talked, m
Edward's POV The door opened behind me. No knock. She came in already talking. "I need your numbers from Rotterdam before we fix anything else," she said. "The version you gave him assumes—" She stopped. I didn't turn immediately. Just reached for the towel, dragged it once over my face, then
The auctioneer's cadence moved through the wall. I had built something without him. That was still true. It would stay true. Whatever I said next didn't touch it. "I don't know," I said. "That's the honest answer. Not the managed version." I met his gaze. "I don't know if what's left is enough to
Alicia's POV The older man was still talking. "Seven years," he said. "Four jurisdictions. We moved water infrastructure across borders that hadn't spoken to each other in a generation." His hands traced corridors in the air between us. "The archive is the proof it happened. That it worked." He tu
“You entered without cause,” I said. “You stayed without one.” “I don’t know what this is between you two but—” “My wife.” No variation in tone. No additional weight needed. Alicia’s hand lifted a little, then halted mid-motion and settled again without completing the gesture. The woman exhaled
Edward’s POV “Forty thousand. Do I have forty-five?” The paddle was already raised. Alicia’s hand remained under mine, unchanged in position, as though neither of us had adjusted to its presence since it settled there. “Forty-five.” I raised. “Fifty. Fifty-five.” On the left, a man leaned forw
"That must have been stressful. It's admirable that you're here today despite what your family is going through." His tone carried real sympathy, and it slipped past the armor I'd worked so hard to keep in place. Because yes, it had been stressful. Terrifying, actually. And I was here because Edwar
When had it happened? The night after the charity dinner, when Edward had drunk too much wine and actually remembered I existed for twenty minutes? My birthday, when he'd given me the obligatory gift of brief, mechanical intimacy? Or that night three weeks ago, before Lucy returned, when he'd almost
Edward's POV The afternoon light cut through my office windows in precise angles, illuminating the stack of newspapers Leo had arranged on my desk like evidence in a trial. Each headline was a variation of the same theme: speculation, innuendo, carefully worded questions about my marriage and Lucy'
"No, you're not." Vivienne settled back in her chair, her eyes bright with memory. "Do you remember that summer when you were sixteen? The Harringtons' annual garden party? You and Lucy snuck away to the old gazebo, and when we found you, you were planning to run to Paris together." "We were teenag







