Sylvia'POV
The soft click of the door echoed in my office like a gunshot.
For a moment, I let myself sit there—spine curved, breath held—before I pulled my composure back into place like a second skin.
Caesar still lingered in my mind, but I refused to give him more space than he deserved.
I inhaled slowly. Exhaled with precision.
If I couldn't fix my heart, I'd sharpen my focus.
My screen lit up with the name I was beginning to know all too well.
John Sinclair.
The elusive director of LC Corporation was proving harder to pin down than a rogue wolf prowling the borderlands—but that only made the hunt more interesting.
Three days of strategic messaging, and all I'd gotten were polite deflections and radio silence.
Still, I wasn't frustrated. I was intrigued.
