The scent of antiseptic still lingered in Jenna’s memory. Even now, standing at the glass entrance of J&J’s temporary headquarters, she could almost hear the steady rhythm of hospital monitors… the faint, fragile sound that had followed Rex’s breathing the night he collapsed in her arms. She had not stayed long. She had not allowed herself to. Because staying meant feeling. And feeling, right now, was a liability. So she stepped forward. Back into war.The moment Jenna entered the building, everything shifted. Conversations died mid-sentence. Heads turned. Eyes followed. Respect. Fear. Curiosity. And something sharper beneath it all, speculation. Jenna walked past them without pause, heels striking marble with quiet authority. Her expression remained composed, unreadable, distant. Untouchable. But she heard them. Of course she did. “Is that her?” “She was at the center of the explosion…” “They say the King himself moved security just for her.” “And Rex Hidalgo—did
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