Sari had spent the entire night pretending everything was fine. Pretending her pulse wasn’t still drumming with anger from that phone call. Pretending she didn’t feel cornered by a man who could buy time and bend systems with a single word.
She buried herself in work, answering Mariella’s messages, signing documents, redrafting notes. Anything to stay distracted. Anything to stop thinking about him.
But reality didn’t give her the luxury of pretending for long.
That afternoon, her father called.
The moment she heard his voice, she knew something was wrong.
“Sari,” he said quietly, his voice heavy and strained. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her stomach dropped. “Tell you what?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“I just got off the phone with one of our senior clients,” Arthur said.
