(Author's POV)
Rosalie stepped out of the elevator onto the Human Resources floor.
The corridor was silent.
*Click. Click. Click.*
The sharp, rhythmic sound of her high heels echoed against the walls, announcing her arrival like a war drum. She didn't pause. She didn't look around. She walked straight toward the manager's office with a stride that cut through the air.
Inside, Marcus Griffin was buried behind a mountain of paperwork. He heard the door open and glanced up, his pen hovering over a document.
The pen slipped from his fingers. It clattered onto the desk.
He stared. His mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.
The woman standing before him was Rosalie Foster. He knew that. But she looked nothing like the Rosalie Foster he knew.
Gone was the gray, shapeless suit. Gon
