KAVEESHA'S POV
I was absorbed in my work, the rhythmic clanking of my keyboard blending with the soft hum of my apartment's air conditioning. The late hour had brought a quiet calm to my space, the only light coming from the desk lamp casting a warm glow over the scattered reports and financial statements. Just as I was about to lose myself in another spreadsheet, a knock at the door jolted me from my concentration.
My heart skipped a beat—unexpected visitors were unusual, and the late hour made it even more intriguing. I quickly stood up, smoothing my hair, and adjusting my blouse, trying to shake off the sense of nervous anticipation that had suddenly gripped me. As I opened the door, I was met with Whitney's familiar, authoritative presence.
