Frey’s POV | Johnson Group Headquarters – Executive Boardroom
The elevator ride to the 48th floor was silent, but I could feel the weight in the air, thick and suffocating like the storm clouds brewing outside the glass skyscraper. Rain lashed against the tall windows, streaking down like nature’s version of sweat. A storm was outside, and an even bigger one inside.
I stepped into the boardroom, and every pair of eyes turned to me. Grey suits, dark ties, glinting cufflinks. Twelve men and women who had once answered to my father without blinking were now staring at me as if my shadow already belonged in that chair at the head of the table.
Except I wasn’t sitting in that chair, not yet. It was still my father’s, and he sat in it. He was propped upright, pale under the collar, an oxygen
