Daniel's POV:
The office smells faintly of sandalwood and polished leather.
Dim golden light spills from the chandelier above, reflecting off the glass walls and the black marble floor beneath my shoes. Everything here screams control — perfection — but tonight, my control feels like it's cracking.
I sit behind the mahogany desk, fingers tapping the tablet in front of me. The screen glows cold in the darkness. A hotel lobby plays on loop. Dane… and my secretary, Lucas.
The knock on the door is soft — too soft.
"Come in," I say, my voice calm but sharp enough to cut through the air.
The door opens, and Lucas steps inside. He looks pale under the golden light, shoulders stiff, eyes avoiding mine. He closes the door behind him with trembling fingers.
"Mr. Daniel," he says carefully, "you called for me…"
I don't answer. The silence between us grows heavy. Only the faint hum of the air conditioner fills the space.
