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CHARLES FOX I was deep in my work when a knock interrupted the quiet focus in my office. “Come in,” I called out, expecting it to be Seth, my beta. But as the door opened, I was met with a face I did not expect to see at this hour—Alexa. “Hi,” she waved shyly, her demeanor almost innocent. She wore her hair in an updo, paired with a short designer skirt, looking every bit the picture of sweetness. But I knew better. Alexa’s appearance was a mask, hiding the opposite of her outward calm. I leaned back in my seat, my gaze steady on her. “What are you doing here, Alexa?” She pouted dramatically, her lips pulling down in an exaggerated frown. “Why do you look so unhappy to see me?” “I’m busy,” I replied dryly, returning my attention to the project before me. I wasn’t in the mood for what