Chapter Ten
The sun hadn't even risen when I swiped my badge into the elevator, heading for the 20th floor. My apartment smelled faintly of burnt coffee, and my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten properly in nearly twenty-four hours. But hunger didn't matter—not today.
Julian had said seven a.m. sharp. I intended to be there before him.
The elevator doors opened onto the executive floor. Empty. Perfect. Too perfect.
I walked toward his office, heels echoing softly, the only sound in the otherwise silent hall. Every detail of this building still impressed me: polished marble, glass walls, faint hum of the climate system, the muted authority in every movement I made. It was a stage, and Julian was always watching—even when he wasn't physically present.
I reached his office door and
