And I hadn't prepared her for any of it.
The realization hit like my mother's slap. I'd been so consumed by Sebastian—by the hospital and the machines and the waiting—that I hadn't walked her through a single thing. Not the onboarding process. Not the layout of the building. Not who to trust or who to avoid.
She was walking into Falkirk blind.
A company that had swallowed hers. A building full of strangers who would watch her every move, waiting for any sign of weakness. And at the center of it all—Nathan—fucking Nathan—waiting for any slip, any fracture he could pry open.
Strong. One of the strongest people I knew.
And I'd sent her in with nothing.
No map. No warning.
I typed back.
Me: Thank you. See you soon.
Six words. Professional. Distant—everything we weren't.
I wanted to say more. To apologize. To promise I'd be in her corner even if no one else saw it.
But the words were hollow compared to what she needed—and what I'd failed to give her.
I pocketed the phone and grabbed my jacket off the chair. The fabric was stiff, freshly dry-cleaned—Ava must've dropped it off while I was at the hospital. A small mercy I didn't have the energy to appreciate.
The city blurred past as I drove through New York's streets. Steel and glass. Morning light cutting between towers.
By the time Falkirk's lobby came into view, I'd rebuilt the mask.
Steady hands. Straight spine.
The version of Damien Holt who closed deals and commanded rooms.
I pushed through the glass doors.
And there she was.
Standing near the reception desk, shoulders squared, chin lifted. The picture of composure.
But I knew her too well. I caught the way her fingers pressed into the leather of her bag. The flicker in her eyes when she found mine across the lobby.
She was holding herself together the same way I was.
By sheer fucking will.
Chapter five
Emma
The lobby swallowed me whole.
No Jennifer. No Kevin. No David at my side. Just me—and exhaustion—standing alone in Falkirk's massive lobby. The air-conditioning hummed overhead, too cold against my bare arms.
"Hello," I told the receptionist. "I'm Emma Sinclair. I was told to check in at the front desk this morning."
Her smile was professionally polished. "Of course, Ms. Sinclair. We've been expecting you."
"Perfect. I was wondering…"
