Same hairstyle. Similar build. Even the same shade of lipstick Damien always preferred when I appeared on television.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat.
The woman stepped closer—
And kissed Damien.
“What’s gotten into you, Clara?”
Damien’s voice erupted the moment I stepped into the living room. He was already there—tie loosened, sleeves slightly rumpled, anger written all over his face in a way that made him look almost unfamiliar.
“You were off during your broadcast earlier,” he went on, flinging the remote onto the sofa. “You didn’t even acknowledge me or the company. I told you specifically to push the partnership segment. What was that supposed to mean?”
I stood there in my work attire, my makeup slightly smudged from hours on air. I blinked at him slowly. “I don’t know,” I answered in a low voice. “I guess… I just didn’t feel like talking about it anymore.”
His expression hardened immediately. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”
I swallowed, forcing myself to stay steady. “I said I’m exhausted, Damien. I’m tired of reporting about your company, your deals, pretending everything is objective when it’s not. I can’t keep doing this.”