Sienna’s POV

“Wear the dress,” I tell the mirror.

It is yesterday’s dress. Wrinkled. Torn at the seam where Knox Hale put his hands. I wear it anyway because he told me to and because walking into my father’s boardroom looking ruined is the only honest thing I have left.

The building smells like coffee and fear. Nine sharp. Glass. Oak. Men who have known me since I was twelve.

Eliot stands when I enter.

“Sienna. Baby. Let me explain.”

“Sit down before I embarrass you in front of people who already know.”

He sits. His mouth is a thin line. I do not look at him long enough to...