Chapter 7

The scent of seared garlic and rosemary hit Elara the moment she stepped out of the private elevator and into the penthouse.

She paused in the foyer, her hand resting instinctively over her flat stomach. Nausea churned in her throat, a persistent reminder of the secret she carried, but

Chapter 8

The Thorne Industries Annual Philanthropic Gala was the crown jewel of New York’s high society season. It was a night of billion-dollar handshakes, blinding camera flashes, and ruthless social posturing.

Traditionally, Elara dreaded it. For the last three years, her role had been to wea

Chapter 9

The crystal chandeliers of the grand dining room cast a fractured, brilliant light over the gala, but Julian Thorne saw none of it. His vision had narrowed to a single, infuriating point: the sleek, emerald-green back of Elara’s tailored suit as she walked away from him.

The words echoe