Aria Pov
The next morning the executive floor felt colder than it had the day before.
I arrived early, the memory of the supermarket still clinging to my skin like a second layer of clothing. Ethan’s public declaration, the white wedding gown in Derek’s hand, the way the entire store had turned to stare—none of it had faded overnight. I had delivered Victoria’s groceries in silence, answered her questions with short, careful replies, and gone straight to my room. Sleep had come in fragments. Now I stood outside Alexander’s office with a thin folder of completed work in my hands, trying to steady my breathing before I knocked.
I entered without waiting for a reply.
He was already behind the desk, jacket off, shirtsleeves rolled once at the cuffs. The city stretched behind him in clean
