ARMAND'S POV
I strode into the office, the hum of business buzzing around him, but something felt off. My eyes landed on Eli, who sat at his desk, rigid and distant, starkly contrasting his usual lively demeanor. It was initially subtle—an uncharacteristic hesitation in his movements, the way his fingers hovered over the keyboard without typing, the almost imperceptible crease in his brow.
I frowned, watching him from my office doorway. Eli was always composed, always quick with a smile or a joke. But today, he barely acknowledged me, his attention elsewhere, trapped in his mind. His aloofness gnawed at me. I knew the world could be heavy—God knows we've both felt it—but this was different. There was tension in how his shoulders hunched, and his jaw clenched, like he was holding something back, something that threatened to overwhelm him.
