Clara
I couldn't sleep that night. Long after Sebastian had retired to his own wing of the house, I sat curled in the window seat of my bedroom with my laptop balanced on my knees, doing something I'd carefully avoided for the better part of a year.
I searched his name.
The first article that loaded was from six months ago, a business profile with a photograph of Ethan standing in front of the Kingsley Holdings headquarters, arms crossed, expression unreadable in the particular way I now understood he'd trained himself to master. Kingsley Heir Completes International Training Program, Ready to Assume Leadership Role, the headline read. I clicked through to the full article and felt something in my chest cave in as I read.
The details were staggering. In the span of a year, Ethan had co
