Mirela
"She did what?" I snorted, my gaze burning into Fiona as the words left her lips.
"Yes, ma'am," she repeated, bowing slightly as though afraid of my reaction. "She had Young Miss Gomez transferred to her company and also rejected the designs of the necklace for next year's audition."
My fingers clenched the paper in my hands—the proposed designs from Luis Kodra, the renowned jewelry designer from Albania, who had been my collaborator for the past three years. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his sharp eyes darting between Fiona and me, unable to grasp the full extent of what we were discussing.
I turned towards him, a reassuring smile cutting through my already stressed face, and he smiled too, returning to the duties I had assigned him three years ago.
I’d poured three ye
