Lana’s POV
The office was cold in a way the thermostat couldn’t explain.
The temperature was fine. The espresso machine was humming. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead. People moved in and out of meetings, sketches were reviewed, orders were logged.
But every time I stepped into Artemis’s vicinity, the room felt ten degrees colder.
We didn’t speak.
Not unless absolutely necessary.
When I handed him design mockups, he barely nodded. When he offered revisions, I replied with a clipped “Got it.”
But the silence said everything.
I could feel his gaze on me when I worked.
He never touched me. Never came close.
But I felt him there.
Watching.
Always watching.
And it was driving me insane.
We were in the Monday review meeting when Mr. Devonte—one of Sterling & Quinn’s lo
