Amira's Game

Aiden's POV.

The clock on my office wall ticked steadily, a constant reminder of the time slipping away. My desk was littered with paperwork—financial reports, partnership proposals, and meeting agendas. It was one of those mornings where my focus was razor-sharp, and I had no patience for distractions.

I flipped through a file, scanning the numbers, when a soft knock on my office door pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Come in," I called, not looking up.

The door opened, and I caught a whiff of an overpowering floral perfume. I didn't need to look to know who it was.

"Aiden," Amira's voice lilted, sickly sweet. "I hope I'm not interrupting."