Chapter 178 one hundred and seventy eight

A Ifeoma 1.4k words

ROWEN

The double doors of the boardroom creaked open with a deliberate slowness, their weight groaning on the hinges like a warning. I stepped in first, my polished black oxfords hitting the gleaming marble floor like calculated gunfire. Every head turned. Conversations died mid-sentence. The air thickened to syrup, stretched tight...

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