The Vosstech tower loomed like a steel sentinel in the La Défense district, its mirrored facade reflecting the overcast sky and the ceaseless flow of suited commuters below.
Julian strode through the lobby with purpose, his steps echoing off the polished granite, the earlier haze from the penthouse scotch burned off by black coffee and Vivian's sharp counsel.
"Calder's the key," she had said, her agreement fueling the fire that had simmered since Eleanor's departure.
The divorce papers mocked from his briefcase, unsigned and unresolved, but this felt like action, a way to reclaim control amid the crumbling edges.
He left Sophia resting, Vivian hovering like a hawk, but his mind looped on Calder.
The timely arrivals, the too close brushes with Eleanor, the rejection from R that reeke
