Everyone else had gone home.
The halls of Maddox & Callahan were silent — the low hum of air conditioning the only thing filling the polished space. The skyline outside glowed through tinted glass, and the firm’s signature marble floors reflected back dimly under the weight of night.
I shouldn’t have still been here. The interns were told to leave by six. But I’d stayed. Pretended to work. Lied about “reviewing litigation files.” Really, I was waiting.
For him.
Rhys Callahan — co-founder, managing partner, and my father’s boss.
The first time I met him, he shook my hand and said, “So you’re Michael’s daughter.” But the way he looked at me didn’t feel fatherly. His gaze had lingered. Dark. Slow. Like he saw more than just a summer intern.
And I’d let him.
I’d worn shorter skirts.
Un
