Anastasia Brooke stood on the rooftop terrace of her family’s penthouse, the city glittering below like scattered diamonds. The wind tugged at her silk robe as she scrolled through the latest headlines on her tablet. Her statement had done exactly what she intended humiliated Damien publicly, tanked Voss stock further, and painted her as the tragic, dignified victim.But victory tasted bitter.She had loved him once. Not romantically, not the way fairytales promised, but with the steady loyalty of two people raised to merge empires. She had suspected for years that Damien preferred men she had simply chosen not to care, as long as he was discreet. The arrangement had suited her too freedom behind closed doors, status in public, and a future secured.Until the photos made her a joke.Her phone buzzed. Victor.“Daughter. The new contracts are nearly severed One more push and Voss will be begging.””Good,” she rep
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