No. She must have misunderstood. Rowan was influential, yes. A powerful Alpha, certainly. But ME’s president wasn’t even supposed to be from here. He was an elusive figure, rumored to be foreign, Yahilens, they called him. A ghost of the business world, untouchable, never photographed. Surely Rowan couldn’t—
She cut off the thought as she stepped through the revolving doors into the marble-floored lobby. At the front desk, she set the garment bag carefully on the counter. “I’m here to drop this off for Rowan,” she said evenly. The receptionist’s fingers froze mid-typing. Slowly, the woman looked up, her eyes widening.
“Mr. Rowan?” she asked again just to be sure she has heard correctly.
Liora gave a curt nod. “Yes. Please tell him Liora is returning his jacket.” Liora said casua
