They spotted Evans approaching, his confident swagger noticeably dimmed compared to earlier. The man's smirk had faltered, his steps not quite as sharp, as if the Dutchmen had already clipped his wings. Winn didn't spare him so much as a glance.
He breezed past, shoulders squared, the embodiment of untouchable power.
Inside the conference room, the five men sat waiting. The table gleamed, glasses of water untouched, papers neatly stacked. Winn moved smoothly into host mode. "I'm sorry, gentlemen. Turns out elevators can't be trusted not to mess with your timing nowadays."
"Goedemiddag," Ivy said brightly. Their faces softened into smiles at her effort. Well played, Winn thought, his eyes darting to her for half a second before he refocused on business. Ivy slid into her chair, fingers pulling the laptop from her bag, already clicking it awake.
