Charles Laurent never made moves he was willing to lose.
That truth settled over the executive floor like frost by the time I stepped off the elevator at 7:22 a.m. The air felt thinner. Conversations died mid-sentence. People watched me without quite looking at me—the way prey senses the shift in a predator’s attention.
I logged in.
Three notifications waited like carefully placed traps.
After-Hours Access Irregularity Logged
Parking Sector Camera Interruption: 17 Minutes
Internal Review Pending
The exact quadrant where Charles had proposed.
A private message followed.
You should have opened the envelope.
I deleted it, pulse steady even as heat stirred low in my belly at the memory of his words against my ear.
Across the corridor, Shawn’s office door remained closed. Unusual. The
