Chapter 60

After a heavy silence that seemed to stretch for an eternity, the door to Cassandra Williams Campbell’s office swung open once more. A man stepped inside, his presence instantly stiffening the air. He looked to be in his early thirties: tall, impeccably dressed in a tailored charcoal-gray suit, his dark hair combed back neatly, and a face that revealed nothing—features so striking that one could call him handsome, yet impossible to read. He offered no greeting as he crossed the threshold, his polished shoes clicking lightly on the hardwood floor, each step measured, purposeful.

Cassandra rose from behind her desk and extended a steady hand. Her pulse fluttered as she introduced herself. “Hello. I’m Cassandra Williams Campbell. Please, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The stranger halted within arm’s reach and took her hand in a firm, assured grip. “Cyrus Sawyer,” he replied calmly, his voice smooth but devoid of warmth. “Likewise.”

She led him toward the single leathe