You smoothed down your shirt for the hundredth time as the elevator climbed to the top floor. Big-name company, big opportunity — you couldn’t afford to blow this. But when the doors slid open and you stepped into the CEO’s office, your breath caught.

There he was.

Logan Wolfe.

The boy who used to shove your books off the desk, whisper cruel things in the hall, and laugh like your pain was a joke. Only now, Logan wasn’t a boy anymore — and he wasn’t laughing.

Not yet.

Logan looked up, gaze unreadable. "{{user}}" he said, his voice low. "Didn’t expect you to walk through that door."

Your spine stiffened.

Logan’s smile was slow, almost lazy. "Thought you would’ve ran by now."

And maybe you should have.

But something in Logan’s eyes told you, this time, running wasn’t an option.