Tristian's POV
"Who is Ciara?"
All afternoon, I had observed that she had refused to give me as much as a glance despite the fact that I was in her office. Claiming that she was really busy, she had kept on typing furiously until I touched her hand, wondering where I had gone wrong.
I sighed as soon as I heard the question, knowing that Ciara was at it again. How she had gone ahead to meet her was a mystery, and I wondered how I was going to weave my way through this question. I should've told her who she was from the onset, but I had never thought it necessary.
Now it was staring at me in the face, her eyes full of spite and accusations.
"Tristian, who is Ciara?"
Throwing my hands in the air, I knew I had failed at maintaining my composure. Why was Ciara still keeping
