Chapter 1

Sienna

I step into the sleek conference room of Thompson & Gates, I feel the shift in the air. A subtle but unmistakable tension that clings to the mahogany walls like the scent of expensive scotch and barely restrained ambition.

Ten senior partners are seated at the long table, their postures stiff with anticipation. Victoria Langley, our managing partner, stands in the room, her signature steel-gray power suit tailored to perfection, her expression unreadable.

This isn’t a routine meeting.

Something big is happening.

I smooth a nonexistent wrinkle from my cream-colored silk blouse—a habit I thought I’d broken—but the urge creeps in like an old enemy. I suppress it, keeping my face composed as I slide into my chair.

Evelyn Sterling, my best friend and fellow attorney, leans in and murmurs under her breath, “Brace yourself.”

I give her a side glance. “For what?”

She just shakes her head. “You’ll see.”

Before I can press her, Victoria clears her throat, instantly commanding the room.

“Let’s get right to it,” she says, flipping open a file. “We’ve been retained for a case that will put this firm in the national spotlight.”

Murmurs ripple across the table. My mind races. We already handle some of the highest-profile divorces in the country. What could be bigger than the billionaire tech mogul settlement we just wrapped up?

Victoria glances around, waiting for the murmuring to die down before continuing.

“Ava Sinclair is divorcing Damien Roth.”

Dead silence.

Holy shit.

Ava Sinclair—the Ava Sinclair—is Hollywood’s reigning queen. An Oscar-winning actress whose smile can make grown men weep. Damien Roth is her music-mogul husband, infamous for his cutthroat empire and rumored affairs. Together, they are media royalty. Their marriage has been a tabloid wet dream for years, and now, their divorce is about to be the most explosive legal battle of the decade.

My pulse kicks up. This case is a career-maker.

Then I notice Victoria hasn’t stopped talking.

“We will be representing Ava, and I want our strongest attorneys on this. That means two lead counsels.” She scans the room, and I catch a flicker of something in her expression.

A flicker of calculated amusement.

“Grayson Carter and Sienna Monroe.”

My breath stalls.

The room feels too small, the walls closing in as if the very oxygen has been sucked out.

I register the presence of him.

Grayson Carter.

Sitting at the far end of the table, exuding effortless confidence in a charcoal suit and loosened tie, one arm resting against the back of his chair. His storm-gray eyes lock onto mine, a flicker of something dark dancing behind them.

Amusement?

Annoyance?

Resentment?

I grip my pen a little too tightly, willing my voice to remain steady. “I’m sorry, did you say… Grayson and me?”

Victoria’s lips curve slightly. “That’s right. You’re co-counseling on this case.”

I hear Evelyn exhale sharply beside me, like she’s witnessing a car crash in slow motion.

No. No, no, no.

Grayson and I haven’t worked together in two years. Not since our marriage imploded in a mess of late nights, lost trust, and one soul-crushing miscarriage that neither of us ever truly spoke about.

We signed the divorce papers, split our lives apart with surgical precision, and never looked back. 

Until now.

He was assigned somewhere else, and now, he’s back. 

I force a practiced, professional expression onto my face, even as something hot and bitter curdles in my stomach. “I don’t mean to question your judgment, Victoria, but are you sure that’s wise?”

Grayson lets out a soft, infuriating chuckle. “Why, Monroe? Afraid you can’t handle the competition?”

My spine stiffens.

Same damn smirk. Same arrogant drawl.

I lift my chin, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. “Oh, please. I could argue circles around you in my sleep.”

“Glad to see some things never change,” he muses.

The tension in the room crackles like a live wire. The senior partners exchange glances, intrigued by the spectacle.

Victoria, unimpressed by our little side-show, sighs. “Save the theatrics for the courtroom. I don’t need to remind either of you that Ava Sinclair’s case is a public relations minefield. The firm needs to show a unified front. No egos, no rivalries—just results.”

A sharp warning in her voice.

I inhale slowly. I’ve worked too damn hard to let Grayson Carter rattle me.

He might be my ex-husband, but in this room? He’s just another opponent.

“Understood,” I say coolly. “I’ll handle this case with the professionalism it deserves.”

Grayson’s gaze lingers on me for half a second too long before he leans in his chair. “Same here.”

Liar.

Victoria nods, satisfied. “Good. I expect your first joint strategy report by end of the week. Meeting adjourned.”

Chairs scrape against the floor as people begin filtering out, but I don’t move.

Neither does he.

A beat of silence follows, thick with unspoken words and unresolved history.

Grayson smirks—because of course he does. “Guess we’re stuck together again, Monroe.”

I clench my jaw so hard my teeth might crack.

“I’ll be professional,” I reply, gathering my things with sharp efficiency. “Just don’t get in my way.”

He laughs under his breath, and it’s infuriating how that sound still slides under my skin like an old melody I used to love and now hate myself for remembering.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, smooth and slow, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

My blood boils.

I storm out of the conference room without looking back.

But I feel his gaze on me the entire way out.