Elena's POV
The next morning, Asher arrived late.
That alone was unusual. In all the time I’d worked as his executive assistant, Asher Knight was the undisputed ruler of punctuality. He was usually at his desk long before the sun even hit the chrome edge of the building, reviewing international markets and drinking black coffee while the rest of the city slept.
So when nine o'clock rolled past—and then nine-thirty—the empty glass office felt strangely cold.
When he finally walked into the office floor just after ten, a quiet shift rippled through the room.
He looked impeccable, as always, tailored in a sharp navy suit that fit his broad shoulders perfectly. But as he passed my desk, I noticed something.
His right hand was wrapped in a thin, tight strip of white medical bandage.
"Goo
