The conference room buzzed with quiet conversation, the low murmur of executives and senior staff preparing their notes.
I stood near the projection screen, hands steady on the remote, even though my heart was drumming like I'd just sprinted here.
I wasn't supposed to be doing this. Not really.
Three months ago, I was arranging Adrien's meetings and memorizing his coffee order. Now, I was presenting the quarterly breakdown on a high-profile client rollout — because apparently, managing it behind the scenes meant I'd become "indispensable."
His word, not mine.
I kept my voice steady, tone even, and I was doing great. Until I wasn't.
Because he was there.
I glanced up, scanning the room and froze the second my eyes met Adrien's.
He sat at the head of the table one leg crossed over the other, pen in hand, back relaxed against the leather chair. His gaze? Fixed on me. Intense and unwavering. As if no one else in the room existed.
