Late morning sun spilled through the wide glass windows of the wellness center, glinting off the polished reception desk and soaking into the quiet hum of clients moving between therapy rooms. The scent of eucalyptus lingered in the air. Everything about the place was calm—too calm for the storm Kingsley brought through the door.
He stepped in sharply, dressed in a tailored navy coat, drawing more than a few curious eyes. A receptionist looked up from her screen.
“Good morning, sir. How can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Carolina Marks. It’s personal.”
The receptionist blinked, unsure. “Is she expecting you?”
“No,” Kingsley said, tone clipped but polite. “Just tell her it’s Kingsley Rowe.”
She hesitated, then picked up the phone. A few moments passed. Kingsley stood still, trying to s
