BELLA
How did everything spiral so badly today?
It felt like the universe decided to pile every possible disaster onto my desk at once.
Mr. Beck wouldn’t hear a single thing I had to say. Not one. He sat there, arms folded, his expression carved out of stone, and made it perfectly clear: we had forty-eight hours to fix the mess or he would withdraw his investment entirely.
The worst part? I can’t run to my father for help. I mean, what would that say about me? He entrusted me with this company barely a month and a few weeks ago, and now here I am, already facing a crisis big enough to sink us before we even start.
If I call him now, it will be like holding up a giant neon sign saying: I’m not capable. I can’t handle this. That’s not the reputation I want to build, and it’s certainly n
