The mall gleamed like a polished promise—every glass panel spotless, every light strategically warm.
It wasn't just complete.
It was perfect.
Months of stress, planning, meetings that stretched into the night… and somehow, it had all led to this.
I adjusted my blouse slightly and double-checked the folder in my arms. Johnson Proposal. Final walkthrough. No room for mistakes.
Adrien stood a few feet ahead, already speaking to one of the site coordinators, his posture straight and unreadable as always. He didn't need to raise his voice. People simply listened.
I stayed half a step behind and to his left, my usual position. Just close enough to be included in the conversation if necessary, just far enough to pretend I wasn't already cataloging who forgot to follow proper layout protocol. Again.
"Mr. Johnson is almost here," I murmured, barely tilting my head.
