Morning had barely broken when Nayla unlocked her phone screen. Dozens of notifications poured in. Not just from Adrian or her assistant, but from men who, somehow, always found a way to slip through the cracks and demand her attention.
The messages carried the same tone. Sweet. Calm. Pretending to be sincere. They laced their words with concern, each one a gentle stroke, a hug made of letters. Like protectors she never asked for. Like saviors who secretly longed to be saved in return.
Their sentences arrived with faces of sympathy, but Nayla could see the ambition reflected in their syllables. Not a single one of them truly cared. They only saw an opening in her vulnerability.
Some came offering ears. Others dangled dinner invitations. Some offered a shoulder, while quite a few wrapped
