Lydia's Point Of View
The boardroom air had transformed into something toxic, suffocating. I didn't wait for the formal dismissal, didn't linger for the polite nods or the shuffling of papers that usually signaled the end of these corporate executions.
The moment the tension fractured, I moved. My heels struck the marble floor in a staccato rhythm… sharp, desperate beats that matched my racing pulse.
Behind me, the low murmur of voices drifted through the heavy silence… board members lingering to curry favor with the power brokers in the room, the soft, grating sound of Seraphina probably receiving thanks for her "valuable insight."
I refused to look back. If I had, I might have lost control entirely, might have retched right there on the expensive Persian rug. My skin crawled with the phantom sensation of those three pairs of eyes… steel gray, piercing blue, and that terrifying, soul-penetrating brown, stripping away every carefully constructed layer of my professional armor.
