Anya’s POV
Later that afternoon, Jamie arrived at the mansion with the documents. I met him near the front door, the sound of his footsteps echoing softly through the wide hallway. He handed the files to me, thick and neatly arranged, the edges sharp against my palms. They felt heavier than paper should feel, like they carried the weight of the company—and Orion—with them.
“How is he?” Jamie asked quietly, lowering his voice like the walls might be listening.
“He’s still sick,” I said. “Fever’s down, but he should be resting.”
Jamie frowned. “That man never rests.”
I gave a small, tired smile. “I’ve noticed.”
He nodded, trusting me with a look that made my chest tighten just a little.
I climbed the stairs slowly, careful not to make noise.
My footsteps slowed the closer I got to Or
