Chapter 97.
"Okay—I will handle it from here."
Celeste said it almost in a whisper as she reached for the tab in Victor's P.A's hands.
The man was still reading out the trending news for his boss, his voice tiny and terrified like he already knew he was standing on a landmine.
He hesitated.
That alone earned him a sharp, slicing glare from Celeste.
His gaze darted toward Victor—who sat stiff, sculpted entirely out of boiling rage.
Since Victor didn't say a word, not even a grunt, the P.A surrendered the tab and bowed politely to both of them before backing away.
His heels clicked gently down the hallway, each step respectful, like even his shoes knew this room could burn down from tension alone.
Celeste held the pad tightly as she sank into the couch, lowering herself like a woman trying not to disturb a sleeping lion.
The air was simmering hot; one wrong sound, one wrong breath, and everything could explode.
