Adrian Voss prided himself on his control over chaos.
From his office on the 72nd floor of Voss Tower, he could see the sprawling city below—an empire he had built brick by brick. Every decision, every sacrifice, had led to this moment. Here, high above the noise, he was untouchable. Or so he believed.
The shrill buzz of the intercom shattered the silence.
"Yes?" Adrian's voice was as sharp as the edge of his desk.
"Mr. Voss," Elena, his assistant, spoke hesitantly. A rarity. "There's someone here to see you... She says her name is Charlotte Duval."
The name hit him like a cold gust of wind, freezing him mid-thought. Adrian's grip tightened on the fountain pen in his hand. That name belonged to a chapter of his life he'd closed years ago—a chapter he had no desire to reopen.
"Send her in," he said curtly, his tone betraying none of the storm raging in his mind.
Moments later, the door opened, and Charlotte Duval stepped in.
Time hadn't dulled her. If anything, it had sharpened her presence. Her tailored dress hinted at the confidence she wore like a second skin, but it was her eyes—sharp, unrelenting—that captured his attention. They hadn't changed. They still looked at him like they could see through every wall he'd built.
"Adrian," she said, her voice smooth but edged with purpose. "It's been a while."
"Not long enough," Adrian replied, standing from his chair. His towering frame radiated authority, but he knew better than to underestimate her. Charlotte was the kind of woman who walked into a room and turned it into her stage.
Her lips curved into a faint smile. "Still as charming as ever, I see."
Adrian crossed his arms. "What do you want, Charlotte?"
She took her time answering, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she approached his desk. "You've done well for yourself," she remarked, glancing at the panoramic view behind him. "Quite the leap from the man I used to know."
Adrian's jaw tightened. "If this is a trip down memory lane, you can turn around and leave."
Charlotte chuckled softly, setting a sleek black folder on his desk. "Always so impatient. Fine. Let's skip the pleasantries."
Adrian didn't touch the folder. Instead, he watched her, his eyes narrowing. "What's this?"
"Answers," she said, her tone suddenly serious. "And warnings. You need to read this, Adrian. It concerns your future."
"My future is fine, thanks," he shot back. "I don't need your help."
Her smile faded. "This isn't about what you need. It's about what's coming. And trust me, you won't see it until it's too late."
Against his better judgment, Adrian opened the folder. What he saw inside made his breath hitch—a collection of documents and photographs that pointed to something far bigger than he'd imagined.
"How did you get this?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
Charlotte didn't flinch. "I have my ways. And before you ask—no, this isn't blackmail. It's a lifeline."
Adrian closed the folder, his expression unreadable. "Why now, Charlotte? Why come back after all this time?"
Her gaze softened, though her resolve didn't waver. "Because someone has to tell you the truth. And whether you believe me or not, you'll see soon enough that I'm right."
Adrian leaned back in his chair, the weight of the folder pressing against his mind. "If you're lying to me, Charlotte—"
"I'm not," she interrupted, her voice firm. "You'll thank me later. Or you won't. Either way, I've done my part."
Without waiting for his response, she turned and left, her heels echoing in the silence she left behind.
Adrian stared at the closed door, then back at the folder. The past he had fought so hard to bury was back, and it wasn't leaving quietly.
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