Claire’s POV

Morning sunlight passed through the blinds of my office, creating strips of gold across my desk. I had been at work since 7 AM, reviewing Southbank financial projections with bleary eyes. Sleep had been elusive after returning from Damian's penthouse with too many questions swirling, too many versions of the truth to sort through.

The anonymous text message from last night had lodged in my mind like a splinter: "Don't Trust Anyone." Who sent it? And more importantly, were ...