Chapter 90 The Breaking Point

• Leo had never hated mornings not until now.
• The first light of day slipped through the tall windows of his penthouse, casting soft golden lines across the room. But to him, it felt cruel, like the sun itself was mocking him. It lit up everything he wanted to forget, the empty whiskey glass on the side table, the wrinkled tie tossed on the floor, the rain-soaked jacket still draped over the chair.
• But most of all, it revealed the truth, he had failed.