Nobody spoke.
The conference room had become so quiet that the faint hum of the city outside seemed deafening.
Every pair of eyes remained fixed on Chanel.
And for the first time since she'd entered their lives
she looked genuinely blindsided.
Not calculating.
Not composed.
Not prepared.
Blindsided.
Her gaze remained locked on Adrian's tablet.
The photograph.
The headline.
The timestamp.
The evidence.
Camille watched carefully.
Very carefully.
Because if Chanel was acting
she was extraordinary.
The shock on her face looked real.
Painfully real.
Chanel took a slow step toward the screen.
Then another.
Her eyes narrowed.
"What is that?"
Nobody answered.
Because the question sounded genuine.
Adrian rotated the tablet fully toward her.
The image expanded.
High resolution.
Impossible to dismiss.
A luxury hotel entrance.
Private underground parking access.
Restricted executive area.
And standing near a black vehicle
Chanel Sinclair.
