Chapter 12 - Back to the Desk
The rhythmic clicking of my mechanical keyboard echoed through the quiet expanse of the executive administrative floor, sounding like a steady heartbeat returning to a flatlining patient.
My left eye was still sporting a fading purple-and-yellow shadow, and the foam cervical collar was propped loosely on the side of my desk because I had grown thoroughly tired of suffocating in it, but the pain in my ribs had dulled to a manageable, stubborn ache.
A cup of black coffee sat beside my monitor, steaming gently in a ceramic mug that read “I Keep the Empire Running.”
The elevator chimes pinged softly down the hall, followed by the familiar, measured footfalls of expensive leather shoes against marble flooring.
I didn't even have to look up from my screen to know who was walking down the aisle.
Dante Moretti stopped beside my desk, his shadow falling across my paperwork.
"I thought I gave explicit instructions to the medical staff at St. Jude’s to keep you on strict bed rest for at least forty-eight hours," Dante said, his voice carrying a low, teasing undertone.
"The medical staff at St. Jude’s didn't have a nine o’clock zoning board reschedule to coordinate with the city council," I replied smoothly, finally looking up to meet his intense gaze.
Dante leaned one hand against the edge of my mahogany desk, his dark eyes scanning my face with careful scrutiny.
"The zoning board has already been handled," Dante said quietly. "I called the commissioner myself twenty minutes ago. They approved the Northside redevelopment parcel without conditions."
I raised an eyebrow. "You bullied the municipal zoning board over the phone?"
"I merely reminded them of our long-standing philanthropic commitments to the city infrastructure," Dante corrected with a completely straight face, though a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes.
I let out a soft laugh, immediately wincing as my ribs reminded me of their fragile state.
"Careful," Dante warned, his tone instantly shifting from playful to protective as he reached out, gently steadying the back of my chair. "You’re pushing a very fragile recovery, Harper."
"I'm fine, Dante," I whispered, the air between us suddenly growing quiet and heavy with unsaid words. "The ledgers are safe. The enemy is behind bars. And the company is intact."
Dante stared down at me for a long, suspended moment, his hand lingering briefly on the edge of my chair before he straightened up.
"Come with me," he said softly.
May you like
"Where?"
"My office. We have an executive audit to complete, and this time, it has nothing to do with corporate fraud."
