POV - th managing director
The mahogany door leading to the executive floor clicked closed behind me. Quiet filled the space, broken only by the gentle hum of the air conditioning and the polished squeak of my brogues on the marble floor. Grayson Holdings remained awake. It observed, assessed, and acted without expending energy unnecessarily, yet always poised to attack. And I had also learned to walk in the same manner.
I stopped by the window that stretched from floor to ceiling, looking out over Midtown. Below me, the city throbbed as if it were alive. I once believed that success would have the flavor of champagne. It did not. It had the flavor of habit.
Up until her.
Leena Stanford.
The name ignited a fire within me, the very thing I wasn’t meant to desire, wasn’t meant to ex
