Anastasia stepped into her glass-walled office, her heels clicking softly against the marble flooring as the morning light spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows. From her desk, she could see directly into Dante's grand office—an arrogant choice in architecture, no doubt—but she refused to let him take up space in her mind. Not now.
With her jaw clenched and her posture straighter than usual, she dropped her bag beside her desk and opened her laptop. The soft hum of its startup did little to quiet the storm inside her. She was still Dante's secretary—an infuriating, humiliating position he'd forced her into—but if there was one thing Anastasia Laurent knew how to do, it was adapt.
Let him think she was defeated. Let him watch as she bent to his will. Because one day, she'd make him bleed regret for ever taking Laurent Corporation from her even though she was a little grateful, he could've helped her without taking it.
