Chapter 5 Chapter Five: Deadlines and Decisions

By the end of the week, the office had shifted from busy to borderline unhinged. Rowan sat back in her chair, staring at her screen, one hand pressed lightly to her temple. Her spreadsheet was no longer just a list. It was a system. A full breakdown of vendors, materials, contacts, deadlines, contingencies—everything they could possibly need for the expo. And somehow… It still didn’t feel like enough.

“Tell me we’re close,” Jess said from across the desk, not even trying to hide the exhaustion in her voice.

Rowan exhaled slowly.

“Define close.”

Jess groaned, dropping her head back dramatically. “I hate that answer.”

Rowan allowed a small smile, but her eyes stayed on the screen.

“We’ve got booth materials confirmed, display inventory accounted for, backup shipping quotes in place…” she listed, scrolling.

“…but we’re still waiting on two vendors to confirm lead times, and one of them hasn’t answered a single email.”

Jess didn’t even have to ask.

“Which one?”

Rowan hesitated. Just for a second.

“…Blacke Industries.”

Jess made a face. “Yeah, okay, I’ve literally never heard of them before this week.”

“Same,” Rowan said. But the word didn’t sit right.

Because that wasn’t entirely true. She had heard of them. Somewhere. Somehow. She just couldn’t prove it.

Jess leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. “Are we even using them? Or are they just… there?”

Rowan stared at the name on her screen. Blacke Industries. Clean. Simple. No extra information. No contacts listed. No notes. Every other vendor had something. A rep. A phone number. A history. This one had nothing.

“They’re listed as attending,” Rowan said slowly. “Which means they’re expecting to be part of it in some way.”

Jess shrugged. “Then they can answer their emails like everyone else.”

Rowan nodded. That should’ve been the end of it. But it wasn’t.

Because something about leaving it unresolved- Felt wrong.

“I’ll follow up again,” Rowan said, already opening a new email.

Jess raised a brow. “Again?”

“Last attempt,” Rowan said. “If they don’t respond, we move on.”

Jess nodded. “Fair.”

Rowan stared at the blank email for a moment. Then started typing.

Subject: Follow-Up – Expo Participation & Confirmation

Good afternoon,

I’m reaching out regarding your attendance at the upcoming Austin expo. We have not received confirmation of your participation details or any requirements on your end. Please advise if you intend to be active at the event so we can plan accordingly.

If we do not hear back, we will proceed without allocating resources.

Thank you,

Rowan Vance

She read it once. Twice. Professional. Direct. Normal. She hit send. Nothing happened. Of course nothing happened. Rowan leaned back slightly, exhaling.

“Okay. Done.”

Jess gave her a thumbs up. “Love that for you.”

Rowan almost laughed. Almost. Because even as she closed out of the email. That same feeling crept back in. Not fear. Not dread. Just…, awareness. Like something had noticed.

The rest of the afternoon blurred into calls, confirmations, and last-minute adjustments. Shipping timelines got moved. A vendor backed out. Another had to be replaced. Rowan handled it all. Like she always did. But every time she opened her spreadsheet, her eyes went to the same place. Blacke Industries. Still there. Still blank. Still… Waiting.

By the time she got home that night, she was exhausted. The kind of tired that settled into your bones. She dropped her bag by the door, kicking off her shoes as she moved through her apartment on autopilot. Lights on. Kitchen. Water. Normal routine. She reached for her phone, half expecting something. There was nothing. No emails. No messages. No missed calls. Rowan let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Okay,” she murmured. “Good.”

She turned toward the window as she took a sip of water. And paused. There, on the railing outside. A raven sat, still perfectly still. Watching her.

Rowan frowned slightly. “…That’s new.”

The bird didn’t move. Didn’t startle. Didn’t fly away. It just…Watched. For a moment, something in her chest tightened. Then she shook her head, setting the glass down.

“It’s just a bird.”

It had to be. She turned away, heading toward her room. Behind her, the raven tilted its head slightly. As if considering something.

Across the city. Far from the noise of the office, far from the predictable rhythm of Rowan’s world. A man stood in a glass-walled office overlooking the skyline. Still and composed. The city lights reflected faintly in the dark surface of the window in front of him. He didn’t need to check his phone. Didn’t need to open his email. He already knew.

“She was contacted,” he said quietly.

Behind him, perched on the back of a chair, the raven shifted.

Silent. Waiting. His gaze remained fixed on the city.

“And she didn’t comply.”

There was no anger in his voice. No frustration. Just, interest. A slow, deliberate smile touched the corner of his mouth.

“Good.”

He turned slightly, eyes dark, thoughtful.

“Let her.”

The raven let out a soft, low sound. And somewhere, not far enough, Rowan Vance slept. Unaware that she had just become the only person to resist something that should have been impossible to refuse.