Friday arrived not with sunshine but with a heavy, brooding atmosphere that settled over Wolfe Enterprises like a storm cloud waiting to burst. The gleaming skyscraper stood proud against the skyline, but inside its walls, tension simmered. Employees whispered in hushed tones, shoulders drawn tight as if bracing against an invisible wind. They all knew when Nicholas Wolfe was in a mood, and this morning, his mood was nothing short of lethal.
Nicholas had barely spoken to anyone since the gala. His office door had remained closed most of the week, his silence communicating more than words ever could. But when he did emerge, it wasn’t the controlled, cutting efficiency they were accustomed to. It was sharper, angrier. The man was a storm in an Armani suit.
He strode through the executive f
