Noah stormed down the hallway toward his office, his shoulders tense, jaw clenched so tight it ached. His secretary, Elena, stood waiting by the door, holding a tablet in hand, her expression a mix of concern and hesitation. She had been there for at least twenty minutes, clearly needing something from him.“Mr. Grayson, I just needed to—” she started, stepping forward slightly.He didn’t slow down. He brushed past her without a glance, his body rigid and cold, the air around him heavy with unspoken frustration. The door slammed shut behind him with a sharp bang that echoed through the corridor.Inside, he crossed the room in three long strides and collapsed into his rolling chair. It creaked under his weight as he leaned back, eyes squeezed shut for a second. He grabbed a pen from the desk and jammed it into his hair, scratching roughly at his scalp as if the motion could somehow untangle the mess in his head. Nothing made sense anymore. Nothing.It had only been one day—one single
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