Jessica's POV
His presence still clung to me like a second skin. Even now, hours later, I could detect traces of his cologne mixed with my own scent. The thought of washing it away felt almost sacrilegious, so I had avoided the shower entirely.
Last night marked the first peaceful sleep I had experienced in weeks, despite spending it curled up on the office couch instead of in my own bed.
Yet tranquility remained elusive. Our company teetered on the edge of collapse. Papa had promised to take care of everything.
Caleb had offered similar reassurances, but passive waiting felt impossible.
Seven days. That was our entire window of opportunity.
"Paisley, yesterday's meeting yielded how many traitors?" I inquired while scanning documents on my laptop screen, my finger drumming an anxious rhythm against my chair's leather armrest.
"Four individuals," she replied without lifting her eyes from her keyboard, fingers flying across the keys.
"I need their identities."
