Aria sat in the grand, imposing office of the matriarch, a room that felt almost like stepping into the very heart of the Moretti legacy. Dark wood paneled the walls, and paintings of ancestors who had built the foundation she now fought to maintain were hung up on them. The matriarch sat behind her vast mahogany desk, eyes sharp and calculating as Aria relayed what had happened with Mr. Nakamura. Every detail, from the stiff formalities to the final rejection, was laid bare. Aria’s voice never wavered, but as she finished, an unfamiliar sense of inadequacy gnawed at her. James stood next to Aria, his hands ready on his tab to give whatever information he had managed to find.
“I lost the deal,” Aria said, her hands twisting in her lap. “It was my oversight. I should have been prepared fo
