THE AFTERMATH AT Ashford Global was less like a corporate workday and more like a high-speed cleanup of a natural disaster. By the time the sun began to dip behind the city's jagged skyline, Mailah felt as though she had been hollowed out.
Grayson—or the man who now wore his face like a cold mask—had spent the afternoon tearing through the office like a scythe. He had fired three department heads, restructured the entire logistics division with a single, terrifying memo, and stared at the head of HR until the poor man had to be escorted out with a panic attack.
Mailah had spent every minute in his wake. She had followed him from office to office, whispering to trembling secretaries, rescinding "execution-style" terminations, and trying to remind the staff that their CEO hadn't actually become a villain overnight—even though she was starting to suspect he had.
