Three weeks passed, though to Samantha, it felt like time had folded into a single, endless blur.
She moved through Elevate like a shadow—cold, precise, unstoppable.
Her employees whispered. Jake watched from a distance. Even the board tread carefully, sensing that the woman who once spoke with cutting elegance now spoke only with frost.
Samantha Bradley had buried every piece of softness she had left.
And yet… every night, when the office emptied and the city softened, she found herself replaying Lynn's trembling hands, her forced smile, the broken note by the river.
Guilt. Rage. Fear.
They were all the same temperature now—ice.
---
She was reading through a contract—more like staring at the words without truly seeing—when a soft knock interrupted her.
"Come in," she said, voice controlled.
Nick stepped inside.
