All Chapters of Bound By The Desk : Chapter 61 - Chapter 68

Zephyr's POV The elevator doors close after lunch. Just the three of us. Vorian, Silas, and me. The cafeteria noise disappears behind us and only the soft hum of the lift stays. My stomach is full of pizza and fries but my heart is full of worry.I look at Vorian, there is a frown on his face.Silas leans against the wall with his arms folded. He turns to face Vorian. “So,” he says. “The picture of your mom with Holt. You saw it?”Vorian nods once, his face is oddly calm, too calm. The frown on his face had disappeared.“Yes,” he answers. “Last night.”Silas whistles low. “And you are sure it is fake?”“It is old, like old old.” Vorian says. “Three years at least, judging from the dress, the earrings, well everything.”I stand between them. My hands stay in my pockets. “Someone cropped it,” I say. “Cut the third person out on purpose.”Silas looks at me. “You saw the hand too?”“Yes,” I say. “A man’s hand, holding a wine glass, at the edge.”That should be Vorian’s dad, he

Zephyr's POVThe boardroom empties slowly; chairs scrape against the floor, board members stand one by one. They gather papers and briefcases; some look at Vorian, some look away but no one speaks to us. Miles leaves last, he bends to pick up his folder. The red-ink envelope stays on the table, he does not touch it. He walks out without a word and the door closes behind him with a soft thud.Vorian, Silas, and I stay seated. We wait until the footsteps fade, until the hallway falls quiet. Silas reaches forward and picks up the envelope with a napkin from his pocket carefully like it might burn.It is funny that he did not pick it up with his hands but with a napkin as if the envelope was contaminated or maybe he does not want his DNA on it.“It fell from his folder,” I say. My voice is low. “Accidental.”Silas turns it over. The claw-mark stares back; same paper and same red ink. “He did not even try to hide it,” he says.Vorian’s eyes stay on the envelope. “He wanted us to see,” he s

Zephyr's POVI stand in Vorian’s office, the room feels big and quiet and the city lights shine through the tall windows. Vorian sits in his chair with my phone resting on the desk. He stares at it. He has called his mother three times but there was no answer. His fingers tap the wood slowly. His face looks tired and worried.I watch him, my heart hurts for him. This is not like Vorian, he always stays calm. He always knows what to do but tonight he looks lost.I walk to him and stand in front of his desk. “It is late,” I say. My voice is soft. “Your mother is not young, she sleeps early, maybe she turned her phone off.”He looks up. His eyes is dark. “She always answers,” he says. “Even at night.”I nod. “Maybe she is really tired,” I say. “From the day's activities or from everything.”He rubs his face. “I need to know,” he says. “I need to hear her say it.”I sigh, I really want to knock his head but it is useless, as much as I want to yell at him, I just have to be the bigger pers

Zephyr's POVI have not slept in my own bed in one week. My room at my parents’ house stays empty. The quilt Mom folded last time I was there still lies flat. The pillow has no dent. The desk lamp stays off. I live here now; in the warehouse, in Vorian’s office, in the hours between normal work and secret work.Morning begins at NexusVibe. I sit at my desk outside Vorian’s office where I answer emails, schedule meetings and bring him black coffee at 7:30 sharp. I smile at people who walk past, act like everything is normal. No one knows I run on four hours of sleep. No one knows I leave at six, drive to the west side warehouse, and start the real work.The warehouse is our second home. White walls, long metal tables, server racks hum low in the back while the air conditioners keep the room cold. Sleeping bags roll out on the concrete floor, pizza boxes stack in the corner and empty coffee cups line the edges. The smell is always the same: pepperoni grease, burnt coffee, warm electron