Adrian’s POV.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the document on my screen, but my mind wasn’t on work.
I couldn’t focus. My father’s words from last night still echoed in my head, gnawing at me.
“Why the hell did you take her daughter to the event?” he had snapped when I arrived that evening. His voice was as cold as ever, dripping with disapproval.
I’d lied, said Mr. Sterling gave permission, but we both knew that was a weak excuse. My father didn’t care about reasons, he cared about control.
“You’re done with the project, Adrian,” he had said, his tone sharp. “Get rid of her. Sack her immediately.”
I’d tried to reason. “We haven’t found a replacement yet—”
“I don’t care,” he cut me off. “After the party tomorrow, I expect her to be gone. If you don’t handle it, I will.”
The
