Desi stood frozen outside Lucas’s office, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. The muffled voices inside sent a chill down her spine. She clenched her fists, forcing herself to breathe.
Diego was lying. He had to be.
But the doubt gnawed at her. She had to know.
Without knocking, Desi pushed the door open. The room fell silent. Her eyes immediately landed on Lucas, who stood behind his desk, looking startled but quickly masking it with his usual stoic expression. Seated across from him were two people—a man with a commanding presence and a young woman who looked all too familiar.
“Desi,” Lucas said, his voice steady but cold. “What are you doing here?”
She ignored the ice in his tone, her gaze darting between Isabella’ father and his wife, dressed in an expensive suit, raised an
