The executive office still smelled faintly like Cael Alexander.
Not strongly. Not enough to linger in the throat. Just traces of cedar and expensive cologne buried beneath recycled air and polished wood. The scent clung to the leather chair behind the CEO's desk more than anything else, as if the room itself still expected him to return and sit down.
Rain dragged quietly against the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Thin silver lines slipped down the glass while the lights below blurred into soft distortions. The city's evening fog had started climbing higher through the streets, swallowing the lower buildings one layer at a time.
Galathea Brooks sat behind the CEO desk with two monitors glowing at the side table and a stack of acquisition reports spread neatly in front of her. The office lamps cast warm pools of light over dark walnut surfaces, leaving the corners of the room untouched and dim.
She had been there for almost three hours.
