Report

The elevator doors to the penthouse slid open with a quiet chime, and Victor stepped out, a tablet in hand. Without pausing, he moved through the expansive space, passing the sleek bar, the open-concept living room, a state-of-the-art gym, and several closed rooms before reaching the grand, swirling staircase with its clear glass railing.

Ascending with purpose, he reached the upper floor and stopped in front of a door. Knocking once, he waited for permission before pushing it open and stepping inside.

The office was an impressive sight—one wall lined with towering bookshelves, another displaying an elegant seating area with plush sofas that practically invited relaxation. Beside them, a glass gallery showcased an array of trophies, each meticulously placed. Tall plants stood in the corners, adding a touch of vibrancy to the otherwise starkly modern space.

But Victor didn't spare a glance at any of it. His focus remained straight ahead—on the imposing desk at the center of the room.

Behind it sat him.

And behind him stretched a floor-to-ceiling window, offering a panoramic view of the glittering city below.

Victor stopped at the desk, standing with practiced ease. "Sir, the psychologist has reached out. Your instructions were carried out."

The man behind the desk opened his eyes, gaze settling on Victor with an unreadable expression.

"She will be promoted to the head of the psychology department shortly," Victor continued, swiping on his tablet. "Her compensation will be… generous—enough for her to spend the rest of her life sleeping and eating if she so chooses."

A brief silence. Then, the man's voice, smooth and baritone, cut through the air.

"And the hospital?"

"The paperwork for the transfer is complete," Victor confirmed. "Should we move it under Voss Medicals?"

A slow inhale. Then—

"Not yet. Keep it under wraps for now."

Victor nodded. "Understood, sir. The hospital will continue operating as usual. I'll inform you the next time Miss Eve visits."

"I will visit Voss Entertainment tomorrow," he said, his voice calm but firm.

Turning slightly, he gazed out at the city below.

The floor-to-ceiling window offered a perfect view—every building, every street, stretching endlessly before him. From the hospital to Voss Entertainment, everything was within his sight.

"Understood, sir. I will make the necessary arrangements," Victor replied.

A brief pause. Then, as if choosing his words carefully, he added, "Your grandfather visited the hospital yesterday, sir."

The man didn't turn. He remained still, his back to Victor, only the faintest tilt of his head suggesting he had heard.

"We received the reports," Victor continued, glancing at his tablet. "He is suffering from minor stress and insomnia, with signs of physical weakening consistent with aging. The doctor has recommended rest and advised him to avoid unnecessary worries for now."

Victor paused, watching him carefully.

It was always difficult to tell what the man was thinking. His back, rigid and composed, was just as unreadable as his face.

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Then, slowly, the man lifted a hand—a simple gesture, but one that carried meaning.

Victor understood immediately. Bowing slightly, he stepped back before turning and leaving the office, closing the door behind him.

The night descended upon the city. 

Eve tapped her fingers against the desk, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of her. The office buzzed with the usual morning chatter—phones ringing, keyboards clicking, hushed conversations drifting through the open space. Someone laughed from across the room, and a coffee machine whirred to life in the break area.

Yet none of it reached her.

Her mind was elsewhere—stuck on Lisa's words from yesterday, looping in her head like an unshakable melody.

"Leo needs a father figure."

"This man is special to him."

Eve exhaled, pressing her palm against her forehead. How am I supposed to process this? She hadn't even told Lisa the man's name, and yet, somehow, she felt like the psychologist already knew.

Before her thoughts could spiral further, a voice cut through the office noise.

"Did you hear?" someone whispered nearby.

Eve blinked and turned her head slightly.

"Yeah," another coworker replied in an equally hushed tone. "He's coming in today."

Her fingers stilled against the desk.

"He?"

Her heartbeat kicked up a notch as she looked toward the small group whispering by the printer. They hadn't noticed her yet.

"You mean the boss?" one of them asked, eyes wide.

"Who else?"

Eve's breath caught.

"No. No way. Not again."

"Why so suddenly?" another chimed in. "He barely visits in person unless it's something important."

"Who knows? Maybe it's about the upcoming deal? Either way, we better be on our best behavior."

A sinking feeling settled in Eve's stomach.

Adrian Voss.

It had barely been a few days since her last run-in with him, and now he was coming back? To this office?

She swallowed, trying to shake the nerves creeping up her spine.

It's fine. Just act normal. He's not coming here for you.

But even as she told herself that, she couldn't shake the thought that nothing was ever a coincidence when it came to Adrian Voss.

Eve couldn't shake the feeling—this wasn't normal. It wasn't a coincidence.

And that terrified her.

Adrian Voss was a ghost—rarely seen, rarely heard. At most, he made an appearance once or twice a year, his existence more of a whispered rumor than a tangible presence. Yet, for some reason, he had visited Voss Entertainment twice in quick succession.

It wasn't as though the company required his attention. Quite the opposite. Voss Entertainment wasn't just another powerhouse in the industry—it was the industry. Nearly every major celebrity in the country was tied to it, along with a growing number of international stars.

And yet, the moment his name was attached to something, even the brightest, most dazzling figures became insignificant—mere background noise in the wake of something far greater.

Eve couldn't understand him.

Then again, did anyone?