Adrian’s POV
The penthouse serves as a war room of calculated focus, the afternoon sun filtering through the windows, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor covered with Grayson’s financial records, lobby correspondence, and clinic security upgrades. The air carries a faint hint of cedar from my cologne, a reminder of the closeness with Serena during our recent triumphs, though today’s urgency demands a different intensity. I stand by the dining table, my shirt sleeves rolled up, the faded scratches from our past tensions a distant echo on my chest, my fingers tracing the edge of a memo—Dr. Alan Grayson’s signature authorizing Helen’s actions. The foundation for Emily’s memory, now a beacon of hope with the twins’ involvement, is our anchor, but Grayson’s influence within the boar
