Enzo's pov
I had been in my office all morning, swimming in a sea of files that never seemed to shrink no matter how fast I worked through them. The scent of ink and parchment was strong, mingling with the faint traces of cedarwood from the oil I burned to keep myself focused. Numbers, reports, border alerts, training rosters—it was a never-ending cycle.
But I preferred this. The quiet. The order. The certainty of ink on paper. Far better than the chaos that brewed when people were involved.
A knock sounded on my door.
I didn’t bother looking up. “Come in.”
Ash walked in with his usual calm expression, but someone trailed behind him. A woman, dressed sharply, her eyes too calculating for a guest.
I leaned back in my chair, finally giving them both my attention.
“Irene,” I said flatl
