'No, not the speech.' He stood, pacing to the window overlooking the Rose Garden, hands in pockets. 'Vardo. My brother's always been a force—brash, brilliant—but lately, it's like he's pulling strings I can't see. The leaks, the deals... it's fracturing us. And me.' His voice cracked slightly, turning back to her. 'I confide in you because you're steady, Nia. More than most.'
She rose, drawn by the raw edge in his tone, stepping closer. 'Vince—Mr. President—you're carrying the world. Family's supposed to lighten that.' He reached out, taking her hand, his thumb tracing slow circles on her knuckles. The touch lingered, warm and electric, stirring visions she'd buried: dinners turning intimate, his lips on hers, bodies entwining without the shadow of power. What if she leaned in? What if th
