Nadia's Point Of View
The heavy glass doors of the Corvanni corporate headquarters didn't just swing open; they practically cowered as I shoved my way through them.
My head throbbed with a vicious, relentless rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart. Each sharp click of my designer heels against the polished marble floor echoed like gunfire in the quiet morning lobby, announcing my arrival to anyone unfortunate enough to be within earshot. I knew exactly how I appeared… haggard, defeated, a shadow of the polished woman I'd been just twenty-four hours ago.
The heavy shadows beneath my eyes defied even my most expensive concealer, dark crescents that told the story of a sleepless night spent drowning in rage and humiliation. Despite the armor of my tailored suit and perfect makeup, carefully applied with trembling hands this morning, I felt exposed, raw, as if everyone could see straight through to the wounded pride festering beneath.
