POV: Zina
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, but the sound might as well have been a gunshot for how violently my heart jolted. I stepped out onto the marble floor, the sharp click of my heels echoing down the hall like a countdown to my execution.
Jared's words replayed in my head. You don't owe him anything. Don't let him corner you.
I gripped the strap of my bag tighter, knuckles white. The conference room loomed at the end of the corridor, its glass walls revealing shadowy silhouettes inside. My reflection stared back at me as I passed, pale and drawn—a ghost of the woman I used to be.
I wasn't ready for this.
But I didn't have a choice.
Pushing down the tremor threatening to claw its way up my throat, I adjusted the blazer that suddenly felt too tight and forced my legs to keep moving.
The door opened before I could touch the handle.
"Mrs. Lennox."
I froze.
