SHANE The elevator doors slid open with a muted chime, as I stepped out onto the executive floor of Blackwood Marketing and walked down to my office. Clara looked up from her desk the second I walked in; alert, always efficient.“Good morning, Mr. Blackwood,” she greeted with a polite smile.“Morning,” I said, shrugging off my coat and handing it to her. “Any urgent messages?”“Just the usual, three from the Singapore team, one from the legal department regarding the partnership agreement, and a reminder that your meeting with Mr. Kramer from Vantage Global is at eleven.”“Right.” I nodded and kept walking toward my office, the familiar rhythm of my day taking shape before I’d even had coffee.When I stepped inside, the first thing that greeted me was the smell of fresh leather and paper. My office was sleek, modern, but impersonal glass walls, muted tones, clean lines. It reflected everything my life had become lately: controlled, efficient, and utterly devoid of warmth.I dropped m
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