The office remained unnaturally still after their argument, the tension not gone but settled into the walls like something that intended to stay.
Drogo sat behind his desk, his elbows resting lightly against the armrests of his chair, fingers steepled near his mouth as his mind refused to let the matter go.
He had dealt with arrogance before. He had dealt with manipulation, entitlement, emotional volatility, even calculated defiance. But Karen was not a category he could comfortably assign and close.
What kind of woman injures herself deliberately, not in a moment of emotional collapse, but as leverage?
Not as a cry for help, not as a breakdown, but as a strategy. The audacity of it irritated him, yet the precision unsettled him more. She had known exactly how far to go.
Not fatal or disabling, just enough to corner him morally and professionally. It was reckless, yes, but it was not chaotic. There had been intention behind it, and that intention bothered him.
