The board meeting was supposed to be routine.
I wasn't even supposed to be there. But Azryth had insisted I accompany him to Valek Industries headquarters for what he called "visibility purposes."
"The Covenant knows you're bound to me," he'd explained that morning. "But seeing you actively integrated into my life, attending meetings, present in my spaces, sends a message. That you're not some secret I'm hiding, that you're protected. Claimed."
"So I'm a prop."
"You're a statement." He'd adjusted my tie with the same careful attention he gave everything. "And possibly a prop, both can be true."
So here I was, sitting in a conference room that probably cost more than most houses, surrounded by executives in expensive suits, while Azryth conducted a quarterly review.
I was trying to pay attention. Really. But corporate finance was not my strong suit, and the discussion of projected earnings versus actual performance was making my eyes glaze over.
Then she walked in.
