Whispers in the Halls
(Isabella’s POV)
I should’ve known something was off the moment I stepped inside Sinclair Enterprises.
The air was different—charged with something unspoken. It wasn’t the usual early morning hush that came with focused employees and coffee-fueled productivity. This silence was heavier. Loaded.
Even the receptionist barely glanced up at me. No cheery “good morning,” no fake pleasantries. Just a stiff nod before she suddenly became fascinated with her screen.
I walked toward the elevators, heels clicking against marble, pretending not to notice the two assistants whispering by the glass panels. One of them—Nina, I think—giggled behind her hand and quickly turned away when our eyes met.
A sick feeling stirred in my stomach.
Something was wrong.
The elevator arri
