ARRDE
I’d always hated running.
It reeked of cowardice—of surrendering before the last blow was thrown. Of unfinished battles, trembling chins, and pride chewed down to pulp. And I’d never been that girl. Never let fear dictate my pace or let silence become my shield.
But this…
This wasn’t running.
That’s what I kept telling myself, anyway. Repeating it like a prayer each time I caught my reflection in the towering glass walls of my company. My company.
There I was, gliding past secretaries and shaking hands in boardrooms, draped in silk and tailored defiance. Calm. Confident. In control.
A lie.
A carefully curated performance wrapped in a power suit and red lipstick. Because if they saw even a flicker of the storm inside me—if they sensed I was unraveling—they’d devour what was le
