HUNTER'S POV
I strolled into the office in high spirits, anticipating the pleasant sight awaiting me. The entire room was quiet, except for the steady hum of the air conditioning and the rhythmic clacking of Cyrilla's keyboard.
As expected, Cyrilla was at her workstation, her brown hair neatly tied in a ponytail. Her fingers seemed to just glide across the keyboard, completely absorbed in her computer, so much so that she didn’t notice my arrival.
She seemed completely transported, as if operating in another world. Lately, we’d been assigning her increasingly complex tasks—ones that demanded both strategy and sound judgment. Even Millie had started passing along her own responsibilities, framing them as casual favors. In truth, I was preparing Cyrilla for something more significant. Sh
