Zaire’s POV
The conference room was sleek and silent except for the hum of the projector and the low murmur of executives presenting quarterly numbers. I sat at the head of the table, my attention divided between the slides and the spreadsheet on my laptop. I had mastered the art of multi-tasking, but today my mind wandered, drifting back to the baby shopping trip with Kyra.
Just as the VP wrapped up a dense report on tech expansion, my assistant, Simone, quietly slid into the room, catching my eye.
“Mr. Cruz, you might want to check your socials,” she whispered, voice low but urgent.
I blinked, confusion flickering across my face. I glanced down at my phone buried under a pile of papers on the conference table and slid it out.
My pulse quickened.
Scrolling through Twitter, i********
