The office was silent, thick with that stillness only found after hours. The kind that buzzed in the walls, soaked into the carpet, and seemed to listen.

Naomi shifted in her seat, her pen hovering above a stack of untouched files. She glanced at the digital clock. 9:47 p.m.

Her boss was still in his office.

Of course he was.

Mr. Elias Grayson never left before midnight. He didn’t stumble over furniture. Didn’t ask for help. He moved like a shadow—confident, lethal, always ...