But enough that a loss of investor confidence now could become blood in the water.
He had told himself tomorrow's dinner would solve it.
Stabilize it.
Buy him time.
Instead, tomorrow was going to bring auditors.
And if the wrong people kept digging, they wouldn't just find Allison's work.
They would find how close Morrison Empire already was to cracking.
Sharon still had her nails in his sleeve when she whispered, "We can recover."
Anthony turned to look at her.
Really looked.
The ivory gown.
The diamonds.
The panic behind the polish.
This woman.
This whole damned mess.
The mistress he had married in secret because she was easier, flatter, hungrier, simpler to control.
The woman who made him feel worshipped while Allison made him feel seen.
Sharon had never challenged him.
Never made him sharper.
Never made him better.
She made him comfortable.
