The Blackwood enterprise felt different the moment Arielle stepped through its towering glass doors. The last time she was here, the lobby hummed with efficiency, heels clicking, hushed phone conversations, sleek suits moving like synchronized machines. Today, however, the atmosphere had a strange tension, a stiffness that crawled across her skin. She clutched the thermos of ginger tea she brought for Damian. He had left the penthouse before dawn without a word, not even the cool, distant glances he usually gave her. Just silence. After the chaos of the past few days, the scandal, his defense, Emma’s surgery, Valerie’s intrusion, she could no longer tell where she stood with him. But she knew he was exhausted, And angry, Not at her, she hoped, Mostly at his uncle. Severin Blackwood. A man she’d only heard about in sharp fragments, like broken glass, Wealthy, Ruthless, Dangerous, And for some reason, obsessed with Damian’s marriage and the Blackwood inheritance. “Ma’am?” the fron
더 보기
