Chapter 45

• Lucian
• The conference room smelled faintly of cedar polish and roasted Arabica. Sunlight flooded through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the metallic logo embossed on the glass partition: Vance Global Holdings. I sat at the head of the table, fingers steepled beneath my chin as my PR director, Gina, flicked through slides on the screen.
• “…public sympathy is trending moderately in your favour,” she was saying, tapping her stylus against a line graph. “But to ensure the custody filing doesn’t backfire, we need to maintain the narrative that you’re stepping in for Max’s welfare, not out of vindictiveness.”