Ryder sat at his desk, staring blankly at the papers spread out before him. His secretary, Claire, droned on about some meeting with investors, her voice a dull hum in the background.
Ryder's fingers tapped restlessly on the polished wood surface, his gaze unfocused, lost somewhere far beyond the numbers and contracts in front of him. He should have been listening. These meetings were important, crucial even. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't focus.
Noah's face kept flashing in his mind—those anxious eyes, wide and scared, the way they had filled with tears when Ryder had broken his heart. The memory hit him like a gut punch, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Why the hell couldn't he stop thinking about him?
"Mr. Ryder, are you listening?" Claire's voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response.
