POV Adrián
Five years later.
The boardroom smells like expensive coffee and contained ambition. Twelve people sit around the mahogany table, all of them watching me as if every word out of my mouth were a corporate commandment. Mattias presents last quarter’s figures, graphs rising and falling on the screen like promises of continued success. Victoria takes notes with that signature precision of hers, her pen moving in perfect lines across paper that probably costs more than half the room makes in a week. Someone mentions expansion into Asia—optimistic projections, emerging markets ready to be conquered.
I’m here, but I’m not.
Physically present, occupying my seat at the head of the table, nodding at the right moments—but emotionally absent. It’s a skill I’ve perfected over five yea
