Liam arrived at ten.
Aurora heard him before she saw him—the particular cadence of his footsteps in the corridor, unhurried, the walk of someone who had decided this morning was going to go well. Her assistant knocked once and opened the door and he came in with the ease of someone who had been in this office enough times that entering it no longer required adjustment.
He was smiling.
That was the first thing she noted. Not the polished boardroom smile—the quieter one, the one that meant something was happening underneath it that he hadn't fully contained.
