~Alessia~
The morning after New York, I sat across from Lorenzo at the penthouse's dining table, sunlight glinting off the glass.
He sipped his coffee, but his movements were slow, his face paler than usual. Last night's chest pain flashed in my mind, a nagging worry I couldn't shake.
"Ren, are you sure you're okay?" I asked, cutting my toast. "You seemed really off last night."
He glanced up, his eyes sharp but tired. "Just jet lag, Alessia, long trip. You worry too much."
"You sure? That looked like more than jet lag." I frowned, poking at my plate.
"Drop it," he commanded but with a soft tone. "We've got a big day, so pay attention to the client meeting at ten."
I nodded, biting back more questions, but my gut twisted--he wasn't telling me something. I pushed the thought aside, grabbing my bag for work.
Arriving at the company, the office hummed with Monday energy. I sorted through emails and schedules, my fingers flying over the keyboard.
