Xander
The elevator doors slid open, and she stepped into the hallway.
At first glance, she looked composed. But the strain showed quickly—her shoulders tense, her steps just slightly uneven, like she had to make herself keep moving.
When our eyes met, she straightened a little and lifted her chin. It was a practiced gesture, one meant to project confidence, but it couldn't hide the worry still in her eyes.
I’d left the choice of her outfit to Ryker.
The only thing I’d asked was that it be simple and comfortable—something elegant without feeling too formal.
I didn’t want her walking in like she was headed for a tribunal.
The whole point was to make this feel relaxed and welcoming, despite the reason she was here.
She ended up in something simpler than I’d expected. No flashy jewe
