The past revealed
The polished mahogany desk gleamed faintly beneath the thin bands of light filtering through the half-closed blinds. Dust motes drifted lazily in the air, suspended like forgotten thoughts in the stillness of the office. The room smelled faintly of leather, old paper, and the sharp tang of expensive cologne—Adrian’s presence lingering even in his absence. It was a place designed for authority, for control, for decisions that shaped empires. And yet, in this moment, it felt more like a confessional.
Emilia stood rigidly before the desk, her fingers curled tightly around the edges of the folder Marcus had just placed in her hands. It looked deceptively thin, no heavier than any other file she had handled since being pulled into Adrian Cross’s world. Yet her arms ached as
