"Eric was supposed to meet you," Winter said, arms folded tightly across her chest. "He was clearly disappointed you weren't there."
Kalix arched a brow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Is that so?" he drawled, lips curling into a lazy smirk as he stepped closer. "Hard to imagine him being disappointed about anything that doesn't involve his own reflection."
Winter caught the sarcasm, and her posture stiffened. The tension in the room thickened—any trace of cordiality fading fast.
"I need you to review this before signing," she said briskly, placing the file on his desk with pointed precision. "Eric can't be trusted."
She turned to leave, but Kalix reached out, his hand circling her wrist—not rough, but firm enough to stop her.
"Still mad that I left without saying goodbye?" he asked, his voice low, almost gentle.
Winter froze. Her shoulders tightened, but her voice didn't waver.
