Matthew Office, New York
The knock came softly at Matthew's office door. His assistant rarely knocked unless something was unusual. If someone had come without an appointment, they were normally turned away. And his mother or sister would never bother with appointments at all; they simply walked in whenever they pleased.
Matthew frowned. "Who is it?"
"Camilla Bianchi," his assistant replied carefully. "She says she's your cousin. I checked with HR; her identity matches. She's from the Bianchi side of your family."
Matthew felt the faint stir of a headache forming. "What did she tell you?"
"That she needs to speak with you," the assistant said, hesitating. "She didn't say about what."
Matthew let out a slow, tired sigh. "Fine. Let her in. And next time—treat her like everyone else. Appointments only."
"Yes, sir." The assistant nodded quickly and slipped out.
