Twenty-three unread messages.
All from the world's weariest public relations agent.
I scroll.
RACHEL (PR): The chapel video has 3.1 million views.
RACHEL (PR): You're trending on three platforms
RACHEL (PR): Someone made a TikTok edit of you set to Frozen. The Ice Prince narrative is everywhere
RACHEL (PR): Good news: Harper is silent. No press. No posts. Very controlled.
RACHEL (PR): Bad news: That makes her more interesting.
RACHEL (PR): VICTOR. RESPOND.
I almost smile. Because I've met Harper Beaumont. And in the short time I've known her, I can only guess as to how difficult it must be for the walking, talking hazard sign to keep quiet about something this huge.
Gina clears her throat as I unlock my office door. "There's one more thing, sir."
I pause, hand on the doorknob. "What?"
"Your brother has been trying to reach you. Three emails over the weekend. Four phone calls yesterday. Two more this morning."
My jaw tightens. "And?"
"I filtered them as instructed. But he's… persistent."
"Keep filtering."
"Sir, one of the emails mentioned?—"
"I don't care what it mentioned, Gina. My brother doesn't exist as far as this office is concerned. Clear?"
Her expression doesn't change, but I see the slight hesitation. "Yes, sir."
"Good." I push open the door. "Anything else?"
"Just the board agenda. Patricia called it an 'emergency evaluation of executive conduct.'"
I stop in the doorway. "Her words?"
"Yes, sir."
I pinch the bridge of my nose almost to the point of pain.
Because StreamEats executive Patricia Franklin has been waiting for this moment, waiting to stab me in the back, since the day I refused to give her wayward nephew a title at the company that he didn't earn.
And I just handed her the knife.
I step into my office, breathing in the bergamot-scented air. A glass-encased sanctuary fifty floors above midtown Manhattan, my corner office is cathedral-like—just the way I like it.
With a view designed to remind visitors exactly who signs their paycheck, the charcoal walls are bare, the air chilled as I shrug off my coat and hand it to Gina, noticing that everything inside my space is exactly where it should be.
Unlike the rest of my life.
I move to my desk, my mind already calculating.
