The private elevator ascended in complete silence.
Mara Reed stood rigidly within the confined space, her fingers clenched tightly around the strap of her handbag.
The mirrored walls reflected her composed exterior.
The expressionless Vice Director of Tactical Designs.
Professional.
Capable.
Collected.
The woman staring back at her was a stranger.
Because beneath that carefully constructed mask...
Her heart was pounding violently.
The familiar fear she thought she had buried years ago had returned.
And it had Magnus Reed's face.
---
Ding.
The elevator doors slid open.
Luxury greeted her immediately.
Soft golden lighting.
Exquisite marble flooring.
Elegant furnishings that cost more than most people earned in a year.
Everything about the presidential suite screamed power.
Control.
Status.
---
Waiting near the panoramic windows stood Magnus Reed.
As polished as ever.
His expensive suit fit perfectly.
Silver strands highlighted his dark hair.
