The hotel suite was all glass and emptiness. Sterile perfection that belonged to nobody, tainted by nothing.
It felt like an expensive coffin.
My resignation made the society pages within hours. Photo from the gala—I was standing alone while everyone applauded Julian's speech. Perfect victim imagery for their narrative.
Julian's people were surgical with the leaks. Just enough detail to keep speculation alive without crossing into lawsuit territory. Unnamed sources. Alleged improprieties. Possible investigations. Death by a thousand whispers.
Sterling and I became strangers who happened to share the same enemies.
Communication through assistants only. Formal emails that read like peace treaty negotiations between hostile nations. The separation was working exactly like I'd planned—pro
