Chapter 75

• Charlotte stormed out of the building, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement, fury boiling in her veins. The crisp afternoon air did nothing to cool the heat rising in her cheeks. Then she spotted her—Anastasia, stepping gracefully out of her sleek black car, sunglasses perched on her head like a crown of smug entitlement. The sight hit Charlotte like a punch to the gut; it all made sense now. This was Anastasia's doing—the leaks, the reporters swarming her family, every invasive detail splashed across the headlines. Her private life, shredded for public consumption.
• Rage propelled Charlotte forward, her strides long and purposeful until she planted herself directly in Anastasia's path, close enough to catch the faint scent of her expensive perfume. Anastasia turned, her perfectly manicured brows lifting in feigned surprise before curling into a sly smile. "How are you, Charlotte?" she purred, her voice dripping with mockery. "You're quite the media darling these days."
• Charlotte leaned in, her face inches from Anastasia's, eyes blazing. "Don't play innocent with me. I'm not Howard—I won't melt under your little acting routine. I know exactly what you've done. This is all you."