"Here is three hundred million dollars. Consider the debt paid, and the engagement over." The black card hit the marble table with a heavy thud. Juliette looked at it like she was checking a bill in a folder. She tapped a nail against the rim of her glass. Cold light cut across the office; Skyline Tower's view didn't soften anything. Reed Lindgren stood framed in the doorway—sharp suit, sharper jaw, colder eyes. Behind him, like an accessory for a brand launch, Sofia Hamza smiled with practiced surprise. Silence stretched. Reed expected something. A flinch. A stumbling breath. A ruined face. He moved with the confidence of a man who'd rehearsed this hour for five years. Juliette smoothed her skirt. "Is that all?" she asked. The secretary, Elise, hovered by the desk, palms clasped. She was a neat, efficient thing—exactly the kind of person Juliette surrounded herself with now that family dinners felt like interrogations. Elise reached for the card out of habit. Juliette stopped her with a slow, deliberate hand. "Elise," she said. "Check the balance. If it's a cent short, he's still my servant." Reed's jaw tightened. Sofia's smile didn't falter. The room smelled faintly of expensive cologne and something Juliette couldn't name—fear, maybe, or the bitter aftertaste of victory rehearsed too long. Elise paled for a second, then moved. She slid the card across her phone, fingers dancing. Juliette lifted her glass and watched the skyscrapers