"Sign here," Viktor said, flicking a tablet at her while the tabloid feed looped on the kitchen island.
Genevieve caught the tablet with one hand and set it down like it was a hot plate. She kept her voice flat. "You left the kitchen light on, Viktor."
He closed the distance in two strides and kissed her hard enough to bruise control into the room. He pulled back with a smirk that had been tuned by lawyers and boardrooms. "You always read things the wrong way," he said. "Start reading this one right."
"Viktor—" She reached for the counter instead of him. "You can't just—"
"Can and will." He tapped the screen. The divorce settlement glared in black and blue numbers. "Sign, and I'll make it simple. Walk away with what Moeller leaves you. Refuse, and I can make every inch of this public. You know how fast Starlight can work."
A headline rolled across the TV above the stove: KALI WARREN: NIGHT OUT WITH A PHOENIX. The photos showed an actress wrapped around a man in a tux. The man's face was cropped so the shape was familiar but not explicit. Pierce's voice came from Viktor's earpiece before he spoke. "Sir, live feed says we control angle. We can bury Her name under the actress story. We go public with... separation narrative."
Viktor ignored the earpiece and studied Genevieve like he was reading a contract clause. "Sign, Genevieve. No scandal. Peace."
She laughed, a
