The rich, spiced aroma of cocoa curled through the quiet morning air, a gentle warmth that stood in sharp contrast to the icy precision of Damien’s thoughts.
They spoke in low, measured tones—the kind of conversation that only exists between those bound by blood, trust, and burdens too heavy to name.
Dahlia’s eyes softened as she leaned slightly forward. “Is everything ready for Hudson and Cruz’s arrival at the company this morning?” she asked.
Damien nodded, his tone clipped but steady. “Monroe has it all under control. I told Ashcroft to meet me in my office in three hours.”
It was a casual exchange of logistics, yet the air between them remained thick with the unspoken stakes of the coming hours.
Dahlia nodded, then lifted her cup and took a slow sip of cocoa, letting the warmth gr
