Chapter 22

Kellan paced the length of his office, his sharp footsteps muffled by the thick carpet beneath him. 

The sleek, modern design of the room—floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the city, minimalist black leather furniture, and metallic accents—reflected the power he wielded in his business empire. 

Yet, in this moment, all that power seemed insufficient, slipping through his fingers like sand. His jaw clenched, muscles tight with frustration, his mind racing. His eyes, a stormy shade of grey, darkened with barely contained anger.

"Oh my God," he growled through gritted teeth, pausing in front of the glass, his reflection staring back at him with contempt. "What the hell was I thinking? I could have used her to my advantage, turned the situation around, but instead—" He slammed a fist against the cold glass, the sound reverberating through the room. "I let her use me instead."