2025-05-19 23:43:21
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Donald’s apartment was the next place they had their meeting. They sat in his living room to discuss as they watched the news. Janice sat on a couch with her legs crossed as she sipped from a wide glass of red wine. Marren sat across her, while lazily throwing grapes into her mouth. Donald himself stood near the window. His family had gone over to his in laws for a weekend holiday. “…I stand by the truth,” Roman said from the television. The clip ended, and the anchor started post analysing Roman's words with a polished television sympathy that did not mean actual sympathy.“Well,” Donald said, turning back to them with a grin, “he looked like he was chewing glass the whole time.”Marren laughed. “He’s unraveling.”“He’s trying not to look like it,” Janice murmured. She took one more sip from her glass and kept it back down. “But that’s the thing about powerful men. They always believe that if they stay composed, the world will not notice the fire at their feet.”Donald walked over
Co-conspirators
Janice’s house smelled nice. It smelled like roasted garlic, herbed potatoes, and the faint sweetness of buttered rolls fresh from the oven. The dining table was set like a family dinner. The plates were already stacked, serving dishes were open, and glasses were filled. There was laughter coming from the kitchen, and the windows were open just enough to let in the cool breeze of early evening.It would’ve been a perfect domestic picture if not for the evil plan that was underneath the happy meals. Donald dug into his roasted chicken with the kind of excitement that made Janice smirk with satisfaction. Marren was already on his second serving of the potatoes, and Janice was having her third glass of wine. They were all at ease like this was nothing more than another casual night in.“You’ve outdone yourself, Jan,” Donald said with his mouth full, as he waved his fork at her. “Seriously. If you plotted half as well as you cook—”“She’d still be a bloody genius,” Marren cut in. He wipe
Greedy Her
As for Janice, she was proud of her efforts, but she didn't think she had wreaked enough havoc on Roman. She wanted to push his hand enough to finally give Annabel the shares. Then taking the shares from Annabel wouldn't be much of a problem to her and her accomplices. She believed that if the story went far enough, Roman’s best option to avoid a scandal would be to actually transfer the same amount of shares on the fake document to Annabel. Then make it seem like it was legitimate from the start and avoid nasty rumours that might tarnish Annabel’s reputation. She decided to meet with Lara again, because she knew that money could get Lara to do the thing she wanted, which was her next plan. And so, they met in a cafe again, as usual. That day, Lara sat across Janice in the dim corner of the cafe that Janice had chosen. Janice liked cafes because it was a place where no one would ask questions, and a perfect hideaway for very dangerous deals. Janice had chosen this spot deliberately.
Another Ridiculous Suggestion
Annabel didn’t cry when she woke up. Although she was sad when she woke up, and her heart still ached, she felt better. She had cried in the quiet of her room, she had cried into her scarf, and even into her pillow. But this morning, there were no tears because she had made a resolve. She was sitting on her bed now, staring at her suitcase that she had already zipped halfway up beside the closet. She had not packed it out of impulse — no, it had taken hours of thinking, one sleepless night, and hours of silence from Roman after their fight. And that was all she needed.It wasn’t that she had expected him to grovel at her feet or anything, but she needed him to say something — anything — to say he believed her and that he was wrong, and that she mattered more than his fear. But she got nothing. And that was the worst part of all.She stood up and walked to the window. She then leaned against the frame, and crossed her arms.'I would give him the benefit of the doubt if it were me, eve
Impromptu Trip
The door closed with a click that echoed far into Roman's head. So he stood in the stillness, staring at the space Annabel had just walked out of. He didn’t move for a long time.He could still hear her voice in his head. He could still see the way her eyes had held him with desperate hope. The hope that maybe he would fight for them instead of against her. But he didn't. Instead, he let the pressure speak for him. Roman sank onto one of the couches and put his face in his palms. His table was still a mess of documents and notes and highlighted printouts. He had the evidence of everything but the one thing he needed most — clarity.He didn’t trust the file. He also didn’t trust the timing. But that didn’t excuse what he had said. That accusation he made towards her had not come from logic. It had come from fear. Fear that he would be betrayed yet again. And somehow, Annabel had gotten caught in the fallout.He didn’t believe she had done it. He realized it now that he was sitting in
Bad convenience
Annabel paced, with her feet bare. She was too aghast to wear anything. She stared at the couch as if Roman was sitting there and watching her. She shook her head at intervals and hissed. She didn't go to work. She just stayed home, stayed in shock, and kept pacing. She only answered a few work emails and took three important client calls.She stopped near the window and gazed out at the street below. She didn’t know how long she had been standing there, lost in her thoughts, but the longer she stood, the heavier the silence became.Her mind kept returning to that file — the one she didn’t put there. The one that had her name stamped on it as though she even knew when and where such a file came from. It didn’t make sense. It couldn’t have. But it was there. And Roman had seen it. And Roman had questioned her.She clenched her fists. How could this happen? She started pacing again. Her thoughts were spiraling. How could he think she would do something like this? He said he trusted her,
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