Drake’s POV
The meeting room was quiet in the way only powerful rooms ever were.
Polished wood. Glass walls. Faces trained to hide reactions. This was my territory. I had controlled rooms like this for decades.
The board sat around the table. Suits. Tablets. Coffee untouched. Margaret sat to my right, calm and perfectly composed. Jack sat two seats away from her, restless and bored, tapping his fingers lightly on the table.
We were discussing quarterly projections when the first phone vibrated.
Then another.
Then another.
The sound spread through the room like a ripple. Subtle. Almost polite. But unmistakable.
I felt it before I saw it.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
Once.
Twice.
I did not look at it.
I kept my gaze steady on the presentation screen, my expression unchanged.
