The heavy, metallic thud of the VIP elevator doors closing carried a strange, permanent finality that seemed to ripple visibly through the quiet, glass walled executive floor.
For a brief moment, the lingering, toxic echo of Liam Vance’s frantic shouting hung in the air of the glass pavilion like a suffocating mist, but the clean, air conditioned silence of the Sterling building quickly swallowed it whole.
Chloe stood by the massive panoramic window, her slim fingers wrapped tightly around the warm porcelain of her coffee cup. She watched the heavy afternoon rain slick the crowded streets of the financial district sixty floors below, a profound sense of inner quiet washing over her.
Her reflection in the high end glass showed a woman she barely recognized someone whose spine was perfect
