Evan sits beside me, his attention fixed on the file in his hands.
The meeting room is silent except for the low hum of the projector. Slides change on the screen, numbers and strategies flashing past, but I don't see any of it. My eyes stay on him.
He's still the same.
That innocent face—sharp with anger, stubborn to the core. Time has polished him, not softened him. If anything, he's beautiful more than before. Controlled. Commanding. Untouchable.
I know I'm staring.
I don't stop.
Evan closes the file at last.
"For today," he says calmly, voice steady, unquestionable, "that's all."
He stands, dismissing the meeting with a single motion. Chairs scrape softly. The staff nods and files out, disciplined and silent.
I rise with them and follow him.
His steps echo against the marble floor—measured, unhurried. I stay a pace behind, close enough to feel his presence, far enough to remain unseen.
He doesn't turn back.
