Claire's POV

Without Damian, the atmosphere in the boardroom was tense. Chairs were creaking. I rummaged in my briefcase and dumped my papers on the table, rustling. They had spreadsheets, signed contracts, and official stamps that showed in the light. I had a plan. I needed to respond with evidence.

“Wait a minute,” I interrupted, cutting through the small talk like a hot knife. “These are the real Southbank figures.” I slapped a chart against the glass. The paper crunched and the ...