It was her first day at work. She dressed elegantly, every detail carefully chosen, as if confidence itself were stitched into her clothes. Ashford Holdings buzzed with life; corridors echoed with hurried footsteps, murmured conversations, and the steady hum of ambition. In the financial department, she was shown to her desk a neat corner of organized chaos, stacked files, and softly glowing monitors. Zara sank gently into the chair, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The crisp scent of paper, the rhythmic clicking of keyboards, and the soft whir of computers wrapped around her like a promise of new beginnings.
Everything around her every clicking keyboard, every shuffled file reminded her of when she had first joined Dante’s company. Back then, she had thrown herself
