Silas's POV
My head felt like someone was driving nails through my skull. I had been hunched over these approval documents for hours, scrawling my signature across contracts that Miss Porter had dumped on my desk earlier. The pen slipped from my fingers as another wave of pain crashed through my temples. I let it clatter onto the mahogany surface harder than necessary, the sound echoing in my office like a gunshot.
Leaning back in my leather chair, I pressed my palms against my eyes. These migraines had been my constant companion for months now, growing worse with each passing week. The doctors said it was stress. No fucking kidding.
The knock on my door made me want to throw something.
"Sir," Miss Porter's voice cut through the silence as she stepped inside, clutching yet another stack of papers.
