Asher’s POV

The cameras flashed like lightning, the constant clicks filling the air as journalists jostled for position. A long table stretched before us, microphones lined up, waiting to catch every word. Janine and I sat in the center, facing the crowd, our names and titles displayed on small plaques in front of us.

Sterling Industries was no longer Marcus’s. It was mine now.

I adjusted my suit jacket, my fingers tightening around the edge of the table. The murmurs in the room died down as the moderator stepped up to the podium, tapping the mic to test the sound.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming,” he began. “Today,...