---Mira--
He was already inside when I arrived.
Again.
Seated behind his massive desk, sleeves rolled just below the elbow, collars slightly open—not from carelessness, but calculation. Everything about him was deliberate.
Evan Draven didn’t dress to impress.
He dressed like a man who didn’t need to.
The moment I stepped in, he didn’t look up.
He just said, “You’re two minutes early.”
“I figured you’d like that.”
“I didn’t say I cared.”
His voice was sharp and disinterested, but it carried. Like it, it had been trained to cut through rooms and people.
I walked to my work station and logged in without another word.
The room was too quiet.
My fingers moved across the interface, pulling up renderings from yesterday. His motion was precise. Minimalistic. Brutal.
He didn’t explai
