Third Person POVThe office was vast, designed with clean lines and intimidating elegance. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the cityscape beyond, gleaming like steel and glass reminders of power. At the far end sat a large desk, dark wood, pristine. And in the chair behind it, turned deliberately away from her, was a figure she knew far too well.Reid Carter.Her throat tightened. She closed the door behind her with slow, careful movements, as though even the click of the lock might betray how violently her heart pounded. She walked further in, each step heavier than the last, until she stood silently a few feet from his chair.She didn’t dare speak. She didn’t dare breathe.For a moment, there was only silence. Then his voice cut through it, low, measured, commanding.“Miss Russo, you’re late. Thirty-three minutes and fifty-four seconds late, to be exact.”The precision of it struck her like a blow. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came.“And,” he continued, still facing away,
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