Damian’s phone buzzed just as he was about to freshen up.

Mr. Cross, please don’t forget the fashion show on Friday.

Sophia

He stared at the screen for a second longer than necessary.

“Sophia,” he muttered, locking the phone and setting it aside.

The Carter mansion, on the other hand, was anything but calm.

The living room echoed with voices, staff moving about, phones ringing, heels clicking against marble floors. Power and noise lived comfortably in that house.

Vivienne stood by the window, phone pressed to her ear, her tone sharp and professional.

“Alright, sir. I’ll look into it personally. Expect my feedback by tomorrow.”

She ended the call just...