Rebekkah's POV.
The climb up the stairs to Derek’s apartment was of echoing wood and the smell of old brick. My legs felt heavy, like I was walking through water. The adrenaline from the boardroom was gone, replaced by a cold, hollow ache that made every step feel like a mountain.
Derek stopped at a heavy steel door and punched a code into a keypad. With a sharp click, he pushed it open and stepped aside.
"Inside," he said.
The loft was huge and sparse...exposed pipes, high ceilings, and massive windows overlooking the dark harbor. It was a space designed for a man who lived like a ghost. I stood in the center of the room, still clutching my briefcase, feeling absurd in my charcoal power suit.
"You can put your bag down, Rebekkah," Derek said, clicking on a single lamp. "You’re safe
