Bella’s POV
Julian’s office felt too chill today. The walls seemed closer, like they were leaning in to listen. The air hung thick—bitter coffee dregs from hours ago, and the faint leather smell of his chair. Files lay scattered across his glass desk like broken pieces of a life that I helped ruin. James sat next to him, pointing at glowing numbers on the screen, his voice low and careful.
My heels clicked loud across the marble floor. Each step rang out sharp in the quiet, matching the frantic thud of my heart against my ribs. I could feel my pulse in my throat, fast and unsteady.
Julian didn’t look up. His fingers hammered the keyboard—hard, angry taps that made the keys clack like gunshots. He kept talking to James in short, clipped words, like I wasn’t even there, like I was nothing
