Rain slid steadily across the glass walls of the conference room while Emma stared at the illuminated skyline beyond Blackwoods Holdings.
Most of the executive floor had emptied over an hour ago.
Only scattered office lights remained now, glowing softly across the building while assistants somewhere down the corridor finished reports that probably should have waited until morning.
Emma should have gone home too.
Instead, she sat surrounded by Whitmore restructuring files, cold coffee, and the growing realization that her entire life had somehow become international financial news.
Disturbing development.
She rubbed tiredly beneath one eye before forcing herself toward another page of revised projections.
Halfway through the report—
her phone vibrated against the table.
Unknown int
