*Aaron’s POV*

The intercom crackled with Roanne's voice, laced with an edge of confusion that tightened my chest. "Yes?"

"Roanne, it's Aaron. I need to talk to you," I said, my voice steadier than the drumming of my heart. The concierge glanced up, a flicker of recognition in his eyes before he buzzed me through.

I ascended, the elevator's plush silence a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. Her door swung open, revealing the opulence I had grown ...