The morning after the television interview, the executive floor of Croft-Sterling felt different. The air was charged. Employees who usually avoided Vivienne’s gaze out of sheer intimidation were offering subtle, approving nods as she walked past their glass-walled offices. The stock price had opene

The rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of Julian’s penthouse library, but Vivienne Croft didn’t hear the storm. The only sound registering in her mind was the rhythmic, frantic clicking of her own heels against the mahogany floorboards.

Pacing. She was pacing like a caged animal.

"

The Croft-Sterling building was a ghost town at three in the morning. The executive floors were dark, the expansive glass windows reflecting the glittering skyline of a city that never fully slept.

But Vivienne wasn't on the executive floors.

She stood in the elevator as it plummeted to the sub-