~LAYLA~
The silence that followed my question was quieter than a graveyard.
William Scotfield didn't shrink away, I'll give him that. He was an old-school shark, the type who believed women belonged on magazine covers, not in boardrooms. He adjusted his tie and put on a look of condescending pity.
"Layla," he said, using my first name on purpose to undermine my authority. "Nobody is trying to bury Axel. But we have to be realistic. The O'Brien Group isn't Eclipse Beauty. We aren't selling lipstick and moisturiser here. We deal in global tech, logistics, and volatile markets. This is a multi-billion dollar conglomerate."
"And?"
