Third Person’s POV.
Nathaniel stood before the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse, hands buried in his pockets, the city glittering far below him unnoticed. His reflection stared back, hollow-eyed, superimposed over the skyline like a ghost that hadn’t decided whether to haunt the room or leave it.
He hadn’t moved in an hour. Not since Nathalie’s voice had torn through his head, loud enough to rattle something loose in his chest — GET OUT — two words that kept looping in his skull no matter how many times he tried to drown them out.
No one spoke to him like that. Not his board, not his rivals, not even his grandfather on his worst days. His jaw tightened as he wondered what she was doing right now, probably still fuming, probably telling herself she’d been right to scream. His eye
