Chapter 24 The Walk Away

Genevieve stood outside Silas Blackwood’s office, the cream envelope trembling slightly in her fingers. Her tailored navy blazer clung to her frame, hiding the storm churning beneath. Her thick curls had been twisted into a bun that morning, neat, decisive, unlike her heart. She pushed open the door. The scent of sandalwood and leather hit her first—his signature scent. It clung to everything in here, even the walls. He was standing at the wide window, staring down at the city as if it owed him something. His tall frame, broad shoulders, and sharp profile were carved from marble, but the light in his eyes was gone.