Susanna strutted over, her heels clicking loudly on the marble floor. She kept her voice pitched in that sweet, concerned tone that carried perfectly to the onlookers.
"Honey, you really shouldn't be here," Susanna said, reaching out as if to touch Seraphina's arm, but stopping short. "It's embarrassing. Ethan has already moved on. You need to accept that."
"I have an appointment," Seraphina said. She didn't stand up. She stayed seated, her hands folded in her lap, anchoring herself against the urge to run.
Ethan laughed. He adjusted his cufflinks, looking around to make sure people were watching his benevolence. "An appointment? Here? Seraphina, be realistic. You can't afford the coffee in the lobby, let alone a lawyer here."
The lobby fell silent. Several clients lowered their newspapers. The security guards near the elevators looked over, their hands resting on their belts.
"Please," Susanna whispered loudly to the receptionist. "She's my husband's ex. She's having a bit of a breakdown. Could you call security? For her own safety."
The guard, a large man with a buzz cut, approached Seraphina. He looked tired. "Ma'am, if you don't have business here, you need to leave. We don't want a scene."
"I am waiting for Mr. Thorne," Seraphina insisted, her voice steady despite the rapid thumping of her heart.
Ethan shook his head. "Mr. Thorne doesn't see... people like you. We are here to see him. We have a consultation."
"She's unstable," Susanna added, leaning towards the guard. "She attacked Ethan yesterday. We're very worried about what she might do."
People in the lobby started pulling out their phones. The camera lenses looked like black eyes staring at her. The pressure of the modern world-record, judge, cancel-weighed down on her.
Seraphina clenched her fists. She felt cornered. Trapped.
"Is there a problem here?"
The voice cut through the noise like a scalpel. It was deep, resonant, and absolute.
The private elevator doors-the ones made of frosted glass-had opened.
Julian Thorne stepped out.
He was taller than he looked in photos. Six-foot-three, at least. He wore a charcoal three-piece suit that fit him so perfectly it looked like a second skin. His hair was dark, swept back, and his eyes were the color of steel. He radiated an aura of ice that dropped the temperature of the room.
Ethan straightened up, a reflex of submission to a higher predator. "Mr. Thorne! We were just... handling a situation. My ex-wife followed us here to cause trouble."
Julian ignored Ethan completely. He didn't even blink in his direction. His gaze landed on Seraphina.
He walked toward her. His movements were fluid, precise. He stopped three feet away.
He studied her face. His eyes tracked from her hairline to her chin, analyzing, dissecting. He saw the scuffed shoes, the ill-fitting suit, the defiant set of her jaw.
"Ms. Reed?" he asked.
"Yes," Seraphina stood up. She forced herself to meet his gaze. It was like staring into a glacier.
"You're late," Julian said. He checked his Patek Philippe watch. "My time is billable. You've wasted three minutes."
Ethan and Susanna dropped their jaws. Susanna looked like she had been slapped. "You... you have an appointment with her?"
Julian turned to them slowly. He looked at Ethan as if he were a smudge on a pristine window. "And you are disrupting my client."
"Client?" Susanna stammered. Her face flushed red. "But... she's a fraud! She's penniless!"
Julian raised an eyebrow. Just one. It was a gesture of supreme arrogance. "Slander in the lobby of a law firm. Bold strategy. I usually advise against handing the opposition ammunition before the deposition begins."
"We wanted to hire you!" Ethan blurted out. "We can pay double whatever she's promised! She can't pay you, Thorne. She has nothing!"
"I don't work for people who annoy me," Julian said flatly. "And loud noises annoy me."
He turned back to Seraphina and gestured toward the private elevator. "Shall we?"
Seraphina picked up her bag. She walked past a stunned Ethan. She didn't look at him. She kept her head high, her neck long.
As she stepped into the elevator, Julian followed. He pressed the button for the penthouse.
The doors began to slide shut. Through the narrowing gap, Seraphina saw Susanna stomping her foot, her mask of sweetness cracking for just a moment.
Julian looked down at Seraphina. The elevator began to rise, the sensation of gravity increasing.
"You have terrible taste in men," he said.
Seraphina looked up, startled. "Excuse me?"
"He's wearing a navy suit with black shoes," Julian said, looking straight ahead. "Unforgivable."
Seraphina let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."
