ADRIAN stormed into Mrs. Harlow's living room that evening, pacing like a man whose entire empire was about to crumble, not because of money, but because of a woman. Mrs. Harlow, calm in her cream satin robe, simply sipped her tea and raised a brow.
“Mother, it is ridiculous!” Adrian ranted, his hands flying about. “The gossip columns are pairing Amelia with Ryan, her assistant. Her assistant, for God’s sake. What does he even know about her? He fetches coffee, carries files, and thinks he can step into my place?”
Mrs. Harlow set her cup down and folded her hands on her lap, her gaze sharp.
“Adrian, my son, when you chase a woman, especially your own wife whom you wronged, you don’t barge in like a wolf at every gala and dinner. You fight clean. She has already giving you a listening e
