60
Jackson spent the rest of the morning trying to focus on work. It was impossible. The files spread across his desk remained untouched as he stared through the window of his office, watching employees move purposefully through the building's courtyard. Every few minutes, his eyes drifted back to his phone, half-expecting another anonymous message to appear. None came. The silence should have reassured him, yet it did the opposite. Whoever had sent the warning had accomplished exactly what they'd intended. Jackson was no longer reacting to events—he was waiting for them. A sharp knock on his office door interrupted his thoughts. "Come in." His assistant, Naomi, stepped inside carrying a thin folder. "I know you said you didn't want to be disturbed," she said apologetically, "but someon
- Writer
