Emma’s POV
I’m late.
Not fashionably late. Not five-minutes-and-no-one-notices late.
I mean boardroom late.
The realization hits me halfway down the corridor, heels clicking too loudly against the polished floor as the glass doors at the far end come into view.
Through them, I can already see silhouettes. Dark suits, stiff postures, heads angled toward the long table.
My pulse stutters.
This never happens.
I’m Alex Knight’s assistant now. His wife now. On paper as of a few hours ago.
And assistants don’t walk into board meetings after they’ve started. Wives most definitely don’t.
I tighten my grip on the folder pressed to my chest.
It wasn’t my fault.
Alex had needed the revised documents signed and delivered personally. The courier messed up. Traffic was hell. London chose t
