(Ethan's POV)
The elevator doors slid open with a metallic sigh, and the quiet click of my shoes against the polished marble of the executive floor echoed like a gunshot in an empty chamber. Every step toward the boardroom tightened the air around me, the subtle hum of the city outside the glass walls fading into the background.
Inside, the boardroom looked ordinary. Polished mahogany table, high-backed chairs, sunlight slicing through the blinds. Ordinary. Perfectly calm. Deceptively calm.
I could feel it before I even entered fully—the room holding its breath. The way light caught the edges of the glass walls. The faint shuffle of papers that weren't really shuffled. The tension hanging just beneath smiles and polite greetings.
Mira stood near the far corner, calm but sharp, her eyes flicking across the room as if mapping every micro-expression, every tiny twitch. Clark was already seated, casual in posture but fully aware.
