The footsteps outside Kendrick's office slowed.
Damian could hear them clearly now.
Each step echoed softly through the hallway.
Steady.
Measured.
Unhurried.
Coming closer.
His pulse quickened.
The sound felt louder than it should.
More deliberate.
Like someone who already knew exactly where he was going.
"Please tell me he's not coming here," Damian whispered.
Kendrick did not answer immediately.
Because the truth was obvious.
Andrew Collins would not wander the executive floor by accident.
Investigators like him did not move without purpose.
If he had asked about Daniel Ross, he already had a direction.
And investigators like Collins never followed weak leads.
They followed patterns.
Reactions.
Mistakes.
Kendrick moved toward the office door.
His posture had changed completely.
The calm corporate heir Damian had been talking to moments ago was gone.
In his place stood something colder.
Sharper.
More dangerous.
Controlled.
But ready.
