FLYNN'S POV
The meeting was going well. Three potential investors, all nodding in the right places while I walked them through our Q2 projections. Harrison sat to my right, pulling up data on the screen when I needed it. We'd done this presentation a dozen times. Smooth. Professional. The kind of performance that built empires.
Then Amanda knocked on the conference room door.
She never interrupted meetings. In five years as my assistant, she'd learned that closed door meant unavailable. The fact that she was standing there, looking pale and uncomfortable, meant something was wrong.
"Excuse me." I stood. "One moment."
The investors exchanged glances. Harrison's eyes followed me to the door.
Amanda handed me an envelope the second I stepped into the hallway. "A man just came. He asked
