The marble in Plexus Tower's lobby gleamed like it practiced. Amelia crossed it with a small folder under her arm and a face that gave away nothing.
“Good morning," the receptionist said, all vowels and training. “Name?"
“Amelia Kingsley," she said. “Zenia."
The receptionist glanced at her screen. “I have a placeholder for a Zenia representative. No name listed."
“Update it," Amelia said, sliding an embossed card from the folder. “Your legal team signed this NDA last night. Here are my credentials."
The woman scanned, blinked, stood a little straighter. “Yes, Ms. Kingsley. Conference Level. We'll print your badge."
The printer whirred. A guard behind the desk watched with polite curiosity and a hand hovering at his radio.
Elevator doors opened. Ethan stepped out, jacket slung, no ti
