Beneath His Cold Vows
The blue-white light from the panoramic windows made the room look clinical, stripped of any warmth.
Edward sat at the head of the table.
The CEO position.
His tablet was already open in front of him, his posture straight but tense. He looked up when I entered.
Our eyes met.
Held.
He looked exhausted. The skin tight over his cheekbones, his eyes bloodshot. But he didn't look away.
Neither did I.
"Good morning, Ms. Valentine."
Edmund, the Board Chair, stood from the seat to Edward's right.
He was a man of sharp angles and grey hair, the institutional memory of the company. He didn't offer the patronizing smile he usually reserved for family members.
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