“You’re not listening, Marcus. I said I’ll fix it,” Reo growls into the phone. His patience as it its limit.

The office lights feel too bright. His tie is crooked. His inbox is a graveyard. His reflection in the glass is tight-jawed, older than yesterday.

The Soeul Tech deal is officially dead. The firm pulled out just hours ago, citing “brand image misalignment.” That’s code for the press leak, the family rumors, the stories about the Cuss brothers devouring each other in boardrooms and bedrooms.

Reo tosses his phone on the table, watching it skid across polished glass.

No messages from Jennie.

None.

He sinks back into the chair, and...