After I stepped outside, I found him standing by the car. His suit was pressed impeccably, and his gaze was fixed firmly ahead, every movement exuding the composure and decisiveness of a business elite.
I stood in front of him and spoke first. "Mr. Maso, did you want to see me?"
Arlo smiled, but his eyes remained cold as he pulled a travel bag from the car and handed it to me. "Mr. Smith, Mrs. Smith will be very busy in the coming days and might not be coming back. I need you to help bring these clothes inside and pack a few clean ones."
'Might not be coming back?' Even if Lyra didn't plan to stay, there was no need for Arlo to make a special trip to have me organize her clothes myself.
This was her way of telling me that I was nothing more than a servant.
Despite being her husband an
