Morana's Point Of View
The sleek black doors of Bridges & Co. loomed before me like a gateway to another battlefield, tall, polished, intimidating. The kind of doors that swallowed you whole if you walked in without purpose. But I wasn't afraid not today.
My heels clicked against the marble floor with unapologetic defiance, each step echoing through the high-ceilinged corridor like a war drum. The floor was so flawlessly polished I could see the determined reflection of my own face staring back at me. No fear. No hesitation. Just fire.
I wasn't here to beg for validation.
I wasn't here for redemption.
I was here to work.