Damián returned to the office earlier than expected.
The building was already awake—phones ringing, elevators humming, the familiar rhythm of control reestablishing itself. He should have felt relief. Structure usually helped.
It didn’t this time.
He stepped out of the elevator and stopped short.
Alexa stood near the reception area, reviewing a checklist with quiet concentration. Her hair was pulled back, her posture composed, her presence grounding in a way that felt almost unfair.
She looked up.
For a fraction of a second, neither of them moved.
Then professionalism snapped back into place.
“Good morning, Mr. Long,” she said calmly.
“Good morning,” he replied.
The distance between them felt sharper than before. More deliberate.
Damián walked past her—but not before catching th
