Noir stepped inside, trying—and failing—to hide the nervous hitch in his breath. The heavy mahogany office door closed softly behind him as Arora reached out with her gloved hand and turned the deadbolt lock with a quiet, deliberate click.
The metallic sound echoed in Noir's chest like a final sentence.
Arora turned to face him, her expression an unreadable mask of cold granite, but the atmosphere inside the private office suddenly shrank. The air itself seemed to bend and darken beneath the sheer, suffocating weight of her presence. The dim sconces along the wood-paneled walls flickered, casting long, predatory shadows across the hardwood floor.
"I gave you a simple task, Noir," she said, her voice dangerously smooth as she walked toward him with slow, measured steps. "Find the file."
