Isabelle’s POV
The next morning was calm, the kind of calm that unsettled me because I knew it couldn’t last. My office was quiet except for the rhythmic clicking of my keyboard as I worked through the last of my emails. The sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the modern, sleek design of the space I’d built for myself.
This was my sanctuary—my proof that I’d overcome everything the world had thrown at me. But today, I couldn’t shake the strange feeling of tension brewing just below the surface.
My assistant knocked lightly on the door and peeked in. “Miss Everett, your 11 o’clock is here, but they’re running a little late.”
I glanced up and nodded. “That’s fine, Stephanie. Just let me know when they arrive.”
She hesitated for a moment, as if wanting to say
