It was all over the news.
Mrs. Ravenstrong caught in intimate moment with ex-boyfriend—where is the CEO?
Adam didn't even have to open the article. The video alone was enough—grainy footage of Sofia, barely conscious, lips pressed to John's as camera shutters flashed like firecrackers around them. She looked dazed, vulnerable, helpless.
But the headlines didn't care. They called it a scandal. A betrayal. A fall from grace. His fists curled on either side of the desk, jaw tight with fury as the tablet lit up again—another replay, another close-up, another stab to the chest.
Tristan, standing stiffly nearby, reached over and shut it off without a word. Silence filled the room like smoke.
"She didn't come home last night," Adam said darkly, his voice laced with tightly restrained anger.
"At least now we know where she was," Tristan muttered. "With Beatrice."
Adam's eyes flared.
