Reine's POV
My eyes fluttered open, heavy with exhaustion, the weight of last night's work still lingering in my bones. What did I expect? Being a renowned billionaire lawyer meant endless battles—long hours, relentless pressure. There was no room for weakness.
Summoning every ounce of strength, I pushed myself out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. The cold splash of the shower was a brief escape from the chaos waiting outside.
Just as I finished drying off, my phone rang. Of course, it was Kate—my ever-dedicated assistant.
"Good morning, ma'am. We need you at the office immediately," her voice was urgent when I finally answered.
With a tired sigh, I murmured, "Okay, boss."
Kate's giggle on the other end made me smile despite myself—she loved when I called her boss.
Downstairs, my little princess sat quietly eating breakfast. The moment she saw me, her face lit up.
"Mom, come have breakfast with me!" she pleaded, eyes hopeful.
I forced a tired smile. "I'm sorry, baby. Mommy has to leave now—maybe later."
Her disappointed pout stabbed my heart. I kissed her forehead gently, then turned to leave.
"Can you at least give me a ride?" Her soft voice stopped me.
"Sweetheart, Mr. Pedro will take you as usual. You can use any car you want—even the private jet—but I have to go now."
She scoffed, "What was I thinking? My mom taking me to school? What a dream." Then she stormed off.
"B-baby," I called after her, but she was already gone.
This was my life—a constant tug-of-war between duty and desire, work and motherhood. My daughter thinks I don't have time for her. If only she knew how much I wished I did.
Outside, my Rolls-Royce glided to a stop before London's towering skyline. My chauffeur opened the door, and I stepped out, poised and regal as ever.
"Thank you," I murmured. He bowed with a smile and hurried away.
Kate appeared beside me, balancing my bag as she launched into the day's agenda, her iPad glowing with appointments.
"Finally, you're here, ma'am. First, a 7 a.m. meeting with Mrs. Yvonne, then at 8, Mr. Maxim…" Her rapid-fire updates made my head spin.
"Kate!" I snapped, halting in my tracks. "Can you stop blabbering for one second? I can't even think."
Her cheeks flushed, but she nodded and fell silent.
Inside the office, employees stood respectfully, acknowledging my arrival. I offered a weary wave but barely registered their presence—my mind was already racing.
Kate gently placed my bag on the desk, then stood frozen, waiting for instructions.
"Kate, coffee. Now," I ordered, rolling my eyes at her robotic stare.
"Of course, boss," she replied, setting down her iPad and hurrying off.
I sifted through my phone to find dozens of unread messages from my best friend, Irene.
"She's going to kill me," I muttered, just as my phone buzzed.
"HOW DARE YOU!" Irene's voice thundered through the line before I could answer.
"I was worried sick—do you want to die? I'm going to kill you!" she shouted, panic and frustration bleeding through every word.
"Can you just shut up for one second?" I pleaded, but she continued yelling until I finally hung up.
Kate returned with my coffee—a perfect brew that was the only calm in my storm.
I sipped gratefully, then pushed the cup toward her. She took it and disappeared again.
Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders. "Now, let's begin."
Kate called the secretary, who knocked softly.
"Come in," I said.
Mrs. Yvonne entered—her expensive suit and Birkin bag screamed status. She held her head high, but her eyes told a different story.
"Good morning, Miss Reine. It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, extending her hand.
"The pleasure is mine," I replied, shaking firmly.
"What brings you here today?" I asked, pulling my chair closer.
Kate readied her pen as Mrs. Yvonne's voice lowered.
"My husband… he's not who the world thinks he is."
Kate and I exchanged glances, sensing the weight behind her words.
As Mrs. Yvonne peeled off her Gucci shades, the truth hit me like a punch—her eyes swollen with secrets and pain. Abuse. Lies. The devil hiding in plain sight.
The day blurred as other clients poured in, their stories heavy but familiar.
Hours slipped by unnoticed until Kate hesitated, "Ma'am, it's past 10 p.m. You should go home."
I barely looked up. "I'm almost done. Why aren't you leaving?"
She shook her head, concern clear.
But I was too lost in the fight to stop.