The call came just as Roman stepped out of his office, his mind still half-occupied with numbers he hadn't finished reviewing.
"Elena."
Her voice was steady, but there was something underneath it something tight.
"He made it home," she said. "But it didn't look good."
Roman didn't ask what that meant.
He already knew.
There was a pause on the line, the kind that didn't belong in professional conversations.
"He looked like he was holding himself together by force," she added. "I don't think he's fine."
Roman's grip on his phone tightened slightly.
"I see."
He ended the call without another word.
For a few seconds, he stood there, unmoving, the quiet hum of the office stretching around him. Then, without going back inside, without picking up the files waiting on his desk, he turned and walked straight toward the elevator.
Jay didn't expect anyone.
His apartment was quiet in a way that felt completely different from Roman's mansion.
