Chapter 36
Zora
By the time I arrive at my office building, I feel as though I have lived an entire lifetime in less than twenty-four hours.
I remain seated inside the car for several moments after switching off the engine, my hands resting motionless against the steering wheel. Through the windshield, employees continue entering and leaving the building as though today is just another ordinary morning.
For them, perhaps it is. For me, everything feels different.
The conversation with Nico refuses to leave my mind.
Every confession, every apology, every painful truth continues replaying itself no matter how desperately I try to focus on something else.
I close my eyes briefly, drawing in a slow breath before forcing myself to step out of the car.
The moment I walk through the revolving doors, I feel it. The attention.
Nobody says anything outright, yet I can sense it before I even reach the reception desk.
Conversations that had been flowing naturally only seconds earlier suddenly grow quieter.
Several employees lower their voices while others pretend to become unusually interested in their computer screens.
A few offer polite smiles as I pass, but I catch them looking at me again the moment they think I am no longer paying attention.
I straighten my shoulders almost instinctively. If there is one lesson Dad drilled into me from the moment I was old enough to accompany him to business meetings, it was this… Never let them see you bleed.
So I don't.
I acknowledge the receptionist with my usual smile before making my way toward the elevators as though nothing has happened.
Outwardly, I am exactly what everyone expects me to be.
The composed head of one of the most powerful empire in the world.
Inside, however, I feel as though I am barely holding myself together.
The elevator doors open onto the executive floor, and the silence is immediate. Conversations stop. A few employees glance up before quickly looking away, pretending to return to their work. I don't need to hear the whispers to know what they're about.
Keeping my expression carefully neutral, I continue toward my office.
"Zora." Erin's voice stops me.
I stop and turn just as she hurries down the corridor, concern written plainly across her face. She doesn't greet me with her usual smile. Instead, she studies me for several long seconds as though trying to decide whether to hug me or simply stand there.
"Oh my God." Erin lets out a relieved breath as she walks over. "We've been worried sick."
"I'm fine." I say automatically.
She gives me a skeptical look. "No, you're not."
A tired smile flickers across my face before disappearing just as quickly.
"The office has been in chaos since yesterday." She says. "Reporters won't stop calling, investors want answers, and no one knew where you were."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. None of this is your fault." Her voice softens as she studies me. "Are you sure you're okay?"
For a moment, I'm tempted to tell her everything. Instead, I simply nod.
"I'll be alright."
She doesn't look convinced, but she lets it go.
"Where's Sebastian?" I ask.
"Inside your office." She glances toward the closed door at the end of the corridor. "He's been waiting for you since early this morning."
Something in her expression makes my stomach tighten.
I thank her before making my way toward my office.
The corridor suddenly feels much longer than it ever has before. Every step echoes through the executive floor, giving me far too much time to think about what is waiting on the other side of the door. Sebastian's phone call had sounded sincere. Calm. Remorseful, even.
A part of me wants to believe he genuinely regrets everything that happened the previous night.
Another part remembers the look in his eyes as he threw my phone on the dashboard and refused to slow down no matter how many times I begged him.
Those two versions of him feel impossible to reconcile, yet somehow they both exist.
I stop outside my office for a brief moment, take a slow breath, and finally push the door open.
Sebastian is already inside.
He sits comfortably in one of the chairs across from my desk with a cup of coffee in front of him, dressed in another perfectly tailored suit as though today is nothing more than an ordinary business morning.
His broken nose has been professionally treated, leaving only faint bruising beneath his eyes and a small bandage across the bridge of his nose.
He looks up the moment I enter and offers me a polite smile.
"Good morning." The greeting catches me off guard.
I close the door behind me without returning the smile. "Morning."
"I wasn't sure whether you'd come."
"You asked me to."
"I know." He gestures toward the chair opposite him. "Please."
I hesitate for only a second before sitting down.
For a few moments, neither of us speaks. The silence isn't hostile. If anything, it feels strangely... rehearsed. Sebastian calmly picks up his coffee, takes a sip, and studies me over the rim of the cup with an expression that reveals absolutely nothing.
Finally, he sets the cup back onto the table.
"How are you holding up?" The question surprises me.
"I've had better mornings."
"I imagine you have." His tone remains even, almost gentle. "I'm sorry the media has turned this into a spectacle."
I don’t say anything as silence settles between us. I wait for him to continue. He doesn't. Instead, he reaches for a folder lying on the table and opens it.
"I looked over the latest quarterly projections before you arrived."
I blink. "What?"
"The logistics division exceeded expectations again." He slides one of the reports toward me. "The expansion into Eastern Europe seems to be paying off."
I stare at him, unsure whether I've heard him correctly.
"You've increased freight capacity by almost twelve percent since last quarter."
He taps the figures with one finger. "That's impressive."
I glance down at the report before looking back at him. "...Thank you."
"I also reviewed next week's board agenda." He folds his hands together. "The transition appears to be going smoothly despite... recent events."
I frown.
"There are still a few investors who'll need reassurance, but I don't think it'll affect the company's long-term position."
For a moment, I simply watch him.
He speaks with the same calm professionalism he always has, discussing projections, shareholders, and expansion strategies as though yesterday never happened.
There isn't the slightest hint of anger in his voice.
No mention of the footage. No mention of Nico.
No mention of the argument that ended with blood on the side of an empty road.
The normality of it all feels deeply unsettling.
I answer a few more questions almost automatically.
"The board shouldn't oppose the transition." I say. "Most of the concerns have already been addressed."
"And the Singapore acquisition?"
"It's progressing."
"Good." He nods once. "I thought it would."
Another pause settles between us. Sebastian glances down at the watch on his wrist before looking back at me as though nothing happened. The movement is brief, almost absentminded, but it's enough to catch my attention.
He changes the subject without hesitation. "What about the Rotterdam negotiations?"
"They're still ongoing."
"And the insurance contracts?"
"They've been finalized."
"Good."
The conversation continues yet every few minutes, his eyes return to the watch on his wrist. Each glance is fleeting, but by the fourth or fifth time, it no longer feels accidental.
"Is something wrong?" I ask.
He looks up immediately. "No. Why would you think that?"
"You keep checking the time."
A faint smile touches his lips. "I'm just keeping track of the morning."
The explanation does little to reassure me.
Several more minutes pass in exactly the same way. He continues discussing business as though we're in the middle of an ordinary meeting, pausing only to steal another glance at his watch. The longer it goes on, the more convinced I become that this isn't why he asked me to come.
Eventually, I set my pen down and lean forward.
"Sebastian."
He looks up.
"Why am I really here?"
A flicker of surprise crosses his face before disappearing just as quickly.
"You asked me to come because you wanted to talk. Instead, you've spent the last twenty minutes discussing business while checking your watch every few minutes."
His eyes instinctively drop to his wrist again before returning to mine.
I notice.
"So I'll ask again." I slowly push my chair back. "What are you waiting for?"
For the first time since I arrived, his composure slips.
"Just..." He glances at his watch one last time before meeting my eyes again. "...give it five more minutes."
I stare at him, waiting for an explanation. None comes.
Instead, he leans back in his chair, folds his hands together, and says with almost unsettling calm, "The weather's been unusually warm for this time of year. I was reading this morning that temperatures are expected to stay above average all week."
I blink. For a moment, I'm convinced I've misheard him.
The weather?
A knot tightens in my stomach. Nothing about this conversation feels normal anymore. He'd insisted I come here immediately, only to spend half an hour discussing business, repeatedly checking his watch, and now talking about the weather as though we were making idle conversation over coffee.
Every instinct tells me something is wrong.
My fingers tighten around the armrest as I weigh my options. Nico's warning echoes in the back of my mind. The second he tries anything, you kick his ass.
Maybe I should.
I remain seated in my chair, waiting for Sebastian to explain something. Anything. But the only sounds inside the office are the faint hum of the air conditioning and the distant noise of employees working beyond the glass walls.