Angela sat frozen, her breath catching in her throat as Edmund's words hung in the air. "You'll see what I mean soon enough," he'd said, his tone a mix of warning and reassurance. It wasn't like him to leave things so cryptic, and the weight of his gaze as he left her room only added to the tension pressing down on her chest.
She stared at the door for a long moment before grabbing her coat and heading out. She needed answers, clarity, anything to cut through the storm raging in her mind. The city's cold air hit her like a slap, sharp and sobering, but it wasn't enough to calm her nerves.
Edmund's private office was nothing like the polished corporate fronts Angela had visited in the past. It was raw, commanding, a space that spoke of dominance and control. The walls were lined with dark wood, and a massive desk dominated the center of the room, its surface scattered with papers, dossiers, and a decanter of whiskey.