⊰ 7 ⊱ A Dangerous Game

I lean back in my chair, my eyes fixed on the laptop screen as my fingers fly over the keyboard. The words flow effortlessly, the ideas for my dissertation project taking shape with each passing minute. I’m so engrossed in my work that I almost don’t hear the knock on the door.

“Come in!” I call out, my gaze still glued to the screen.

The door opens, and I glance up to see Frank standing in the doorway, his expression as stoic as ever.

“Ma’am,” he greets me with a nod. “Marcel wants to see you in the conference room.”

I tilt my head, curious. It’s not often that Marcel summons me anywhere, especially to the conference room, and certainly not in the middle of the day like this.

“Did he say why?” I ask, already making sure my document has auto-saved and closing the laptop.

Frank shakes his head. “No, ma’am. Just that he needs you there.”

Intrigued, I follow him out of my study and through the halls, my mind racing w