Olivia Westview
I followed James silently.
The atmosphere between us was thick with tension as we stepped into the elevator. The silence was suffocating, and I had no idea what to say. Every word I thought of seemed either too trivial or too risky. So I kept quiet, stealing glances at him, hoping he might break the silence, but he didn’t.
James didn’t even look at me, his gaze fixed on the elevator doors as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. I thought that maybe, just maybe, he would say something about the outfit I had worn, the one he had so carefully chosen for me. But there was nothing. Not a single word of acknowledgment. It was as if I was invisible to him, and that stung more than I cared to admit.
The elevator dinged softly as it reached the penthouse level.
