Vivienne's POV

Morning arrives, and I’m stationed inside the marble-clad lobby of Castell Industries at the stroke of nine, meticulously dressed in my sharpest professional attire. I use the polished elevator doors as a mirror, refining the worried expression I plan to wear—one that exudes just enough concern to appear credible.

According to the building directory, Damien Castell’s office claims space on floor forty-two. Getting through the security checkpoint ...