Back inside the Greyson mansion, Dorothy sat motionless on the plush couch, her brows furrowed in thought, her fingers restlessly tapping the phone in her hand. Eric's words replayed in her mind, echoing with a weight she couldn't shake.
Agnes is out of town.
The revelation gnawed at her. How was it possible that her own daughter had left the city—and she hadn't even known?
Just then, the door creaked open, and David walked in, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion. The lines on his face looked deeper today, wearier.
Ever since he'd agreed to the board's demands, David had started feeling less like the CEO and more like a glorified employee—signing papers and attending meetings he barely had a say in. The title remained, but the power was slowly slipping through his fingers.
Dorothy glanced up at him, her concern sharpening. She saw the fatigue clinging to him like dust, but her thoughts were too consumed to dwell on his state.
