The elevator chimed softly as it opened onto the thirty-second floor of Star Engineering.
The glass walls and sharp angles, the polished steel and black marble, matched the man who built them — sleek, controlled, impossible to sway. But Zane Reyes walked this morning with tension in his shoulders no custom suit could hide. A pressure disguised beneath routine. A tightness that had little to do with contracts or construction bids.
But today wasn't like any other day.Because today, Willow Hale was here.
He didn't know she was coming — didn't know she'd be standing inside his glass meeting room surrounded by half his C-suite and every ounce of his restraint.
Yet there she was.
Crisp teal blouse. Coral skirt that hugged her waist and stopped neatly at the knee. Black hair pulled into a sleek twist at the nape. A few rebellious strands framed her face — softening what might've otherwise seemed too precise, too flawless.
