Clara practically threw herself out of the elevator when it reached the sub-basement kitchen. The heavy, humid air smelling of roasting garlic and industrial sanitizer hit her like a physical wall, grounding her instantly.

She pushed the cart into the dish pit, her hands trembling so badly the whe

Sienna’s perfectly glossed lips parted in shock, her eyes darting from the heavy, protective arm locked around Clara’s waist up to Julian Thorne’s unreadable face. The smug, triumphant sneer she had worn only seconds ago melted into a mask of pure, terrified confusion.

Beside her, Clara’s ex-fianc

The silence in the prep kitchen was deafening, save for the continued, frantic chatter of the television broadcast. Vanessa’s tearful face was replaced by a massive red banner scrolling across the bottom of the screen: *THORNE INNOVATIONS STOCK PLUMMETS 12% FOLLOWING PATERNITY SCANDAL.*

Clara could