The storm of data, corporate warfare, and engineered lies had finally receded, leaving behind a silence that felt entirely foreign to the small timber cottage. By eight that evening, Leo had retired to his room down the short hallway, thoroughly exhausted but visibly content after his chess match with Jillian. The living room was dark, illuminated only by the rhythmic, low orange pulse of the brick fireplace. On the small wooden dining table near the kitchen window, a single wax candle flickered, its light dancing across two simple ceramic plates of roasted vegetables and fresh coastal fish. Jillian Michaels sat on a low wooden bench, looking down at the glass of water in hand. Without the weight of the tailored obsidian armor, Jillian looked smaller, softer, and completely unguarded. The heavy, mechanical pacing of the office had evaporated, leaving a quiet stillness that Jillian didn't quite know how to fill. "It’s not an executive catering menu," Clara said, stepping into the r
最終更新日 : 2026-06-23 続きを読む