"I'm sitting right there."
Without hesitation, I walked to the far end of the table next to the boss's chair and pulled it out.
"I don't think you heard me." Ariella rose, both palms pressed against the conference table. She spoke each word with clipped precision. "To .Your. Place. Now."
I leaned back in the chair, meeting her glare with a cold, unblinking stare. The air in the room thickened, as if everyone had stopped breathing.
Mia kept her head down, eyes fixed on the papers in front of her. Her hands were neatly folded, shoulders drawn in trying to make herself invisible, as though one wrong move might drag her into this war.
The conference room door swung open. Damian stepped in, laptop under his arm. His gaze swept the table, then landed on Ariella still standing, flushed with anger. His eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the friction.
"Meeting," he said simply.
