The conference room on the twenty third floor smelled like money trying too hard. Polished wood. Sanitized air. Overpriced cologne that screamed insecurity. If tension had a scent, it would be this. Arrogance mixed with litigation.
Mariella sat beside Dr. Czarina Howard. Spine straight. Expression unbothered. Sari carried that intimidating surgeon stillness, the kind that could silence a whole operating theater with one inhale. Mariella respected her more than she respected half of the legal system. Sari fought like scalpel steel. Precise. Unapologetic. Dangerous.
Mariella pretended to reread her notes. She wasn’t. What she was really doing was rehearsing not losing her mind.
This was the day. The first time she and Paul would be face to face in four years. Her pulse whispered be calm.
