The next morning brought Los Angeles sunshine and a text message that made my blood run cold.
Griffith Observatory. 2 PM. Come alone. We need to finish our conversation. -D
I stared at my phone screen from behind Alexander's massive oak desk, watching the cursor blink in the security report I was supposed to be writing. The words blurred together—perimeter checks, access logs, threat assessments. All meaningless when the biggest threat was sitting in my palm, demanding a private meeting.
Forty-seven hours left on Damien's deadline.
"You look like you've seen a ghost."
I jumped, nearly dropping the phone. Alexander stood in the doorway of his office, carrying two cups of coffee and wearing a concerned expression that made my chest tight with guilt.
"Just work stuff," I said, sliding the phone face-down on the desk. "The quarterly security review is more complex than I expected."