Kaia’s POV

Walter Ryder’s office was as intimidating as the man himself. The rich mahogany desk, the cold steel accents, the sharp angles of the furniture—it all screamed power and control.

It was a room designed to make you feel small.

But I wouldn’t let him see me flinch.

I walked in, heels clicking against the polished floor, my head held high. Walter stood by the window, his back to me, staring out at the sprawling city skyline.

“Kaia,” he said, his voice cold and measured. ...