Someone's Pov
The tires screeched against the wet pavement as I pulled to a stop in front of the towering glass building. The sky was still gray from the storm that had passed the night before, and the clouds hung low, as if watching me. My pulse quickened. The moment I stepped out, I slammed the car door hard enough to make a few guards at the entrance flinch. Let them stare. I didn't come here for pleasantries.
My heels struck the marble floor of the lobby with a steady, sharp rhythm. Click. Click. Click. Each step echoed through the enormous hall until I reached the information desk where a young man in uniform sat typing away on a computer.
He looked up, startled, clearly not expecting the sudden presence of an angry woman drenched in tension.
"G–Good morning, ma'am," he stammered. "How may I help you?"
I placed both palms on the counter and leaned in, my voice low but firm. "Where is Señor?"
He blinked. "I'm sorry, ma'am, do you have an appointment?"
