I stood by the door and stared at her. "I believe this is my office."
"I know," Ariella said slowly, lowering her heels to the floor. She stood and faced me, still holding that disdainful posture.
"What do you want to do in my office?" I asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.
Ariella didn't answer. Instead, she strolled across the carpet in her red heels, her eyes scanning the filing cabinet beside her desk. She wiped her finger across its surface and inspected the thin layer of dust clinging to her skin.
"See? You're like this dust," she said, pointing her dusty index finger at me. "Unnecessary to this office… to Damian."
I looked at her without expression, wondering what she'd say next. Was this the moment she would finally blow the lid off a secret she'd been hiding for so long?
"I think you'd better go home and be a housewife. You don't know anything." Her words fired from her mouth like a machine gun. She always spoke in an aggressive, sharp manner.
