The mahogany table in the Thorne Tech boardroom was long enough to land a small aircraft, but today, it felt suffocatingly small.
Julian sat at the head of the table, radiating a cold, impenetrable authority. He wore a charcoal suit that looked like armor. To his immediate right sat Maya. She was no longer hiding in oversized, drab clothing. She wore a sleek, tailored navy dress that hinted at the tiny, growing bump at her waist. She looked every inch the billionaire's wife, but her hands were clasped tightly in her lap.
The quarterly earnings report had just concluded, but none of the twelve board members were packing up their briefcases. The air was thick with tension.
Richard Sterling, the oldest and most vocal member of the board, cleared his throat. He was a man who smelled of expe
