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AMELIA didn’t return to the office immediately after leaving the café. She instead asked the chauffeur to take the longer route, the one that wound through the quieter part of the city, where traffic thinned and her thoughts could stretch without interruption. They were headed to the boutique. She sat back, her face composed, her posture relaxed, anyone watching her would casually think it had been just another pleasant afternoon for her.
But inside, every word Shantel had spoken replayed with surgical clarity.
By the time the car pulled into the parking lot of her boutique building, Amelia had already sorted what mattered from what didn’t. She alighted and briskly walked straight to her office, nonchalantly responding to her staff's greetings over her shoulder.
Ryan was waiting.
