Elena's POV
I stared at the ceiling that night, thinking of Anna… of the voice on the phone… of what might be waiting for me in the office tomorrow.
Something was coming.
And I wasn't sure I'd be ready for it.
I headed in the next morning—bare-faced, tired, but composed. Everyone greeted me like they always did. No one could tell I was walking in with a storm behind my eyes.
But as I neared the boardroom, something shifted.
Someone was already inside. A man.
Strange face. Unfamiliar. Confident in a way that didn't feel earned.
He stood when I entered. Taller than I expected. Older, maybe—mid-thirties? But not by much. If anything, three years max.
Still, something about him felt… off.
Not wrong. Just studied. Like he'd practiced how to belong here.
I paused at the door, holding his gaze.
"And you are?" I asked flatly.
He extended his hand. "I'm Derick Marlowe."
I stared at it. At him.
