Damian's POV

The office smelled of leather, polished wood, and ambition - but the scent didn't mask the tension. Not for me. Not today.

Rachael had been gone for barely twenty-four hours, yet the quiet was deafening. Her desk was pristine, sterile almost, like she had never been there. Every pen, every notebook, every little paperweight that had a story was gone. And with it, the warmth, the spark, the chaos she brought to my life.

I slammed my briefcase down on the desk, ignoring the clack ...