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I hadn’t even noticed when she came back and stopped at my desk.

“Bring the proposals for the project I gave you this morning, please.”

Oh my God. Did I already do something wrong?

“Where are we going?” I ask, quickly gathering the papers from the open folder in front of me. I was working on them when she appeared, so I just stack everything together and hurry after her.

“To the conference room,” she replies over her shoulder. “The associate I mentioned earlier is here, and he wants to speak with you personally.”

Now? In front of all of them?

It’ll be a miracle if I can form two coherent sentences with Ethan sitting there, analyzing each word that comes out of my mouth.

At the door, Irina doesn’t hesitate. She opens it and steps inside, holding it for me to follow.

The room is bright, spacious, and filled with tension.

Ethan is at the head of the table, of course. With him are one of his lawyers and Noah, and across from them sit two men I don’t recognize.

There are plenty of empty seats, and my instinct is to take one closest to the door, as far away from all of them as possible.

“Come here, Thalia,” Noah says, gesturing toward the seat between him and Ethan.

Great. My fucking luck.

Ethan doesn’t even lift his eyes from his laptop, which, from what I’ve seen, is typical—at least when the privacy system isn’t on and someone else is in his office.

My heart pounds hard enough that I’m sure Noah can hear it. I nod slightly, walk to the indicated seat, and sit down, keeping my movements composed.

Only then do I lift my gaze toward the two unfamiliar men across from me.

“Thalia?” one of them says.

And I freeze. Completely.

Ethan looks up at that exact moment, his gaze snapping toward the man.

Except he’s not a stranger. Not at all.

It’s John.

The man I almost slept with in Zanzibar, before Theo showed up and made me leave with him.

Oh, God. How many humiliating situations can one person endure? I swear, I’m reaching my limit.

“John,” I manage to say, my voice steady, even if my pulse is anything but.

“You two know each other?” Irina asks, her tone casual, innocent—thank God without any hint of suspicion.

If only she knew.

“Yes,” John answers smoothly.

I feel Noah beside me straightening up, and I can sense Ethan turning his full attention to me now, his gaze heavy, piercing.

“We met in Zanzibar, before the trip ended,” I clarify, my cheeks already burning.

And I can feel the exact moment Noah pieces the details together, because a low, suppressed chuckle escapes him.