The Abuja skyline glittered beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass of Victor’s corner office, a sea of amber and white lights stretching toward the horizon. It was past ten; the rest of the floor had emptied hours ago. Delilah sat across from him at the long conference table, laptop open, final slides glowing on the projector screen. She had skipped her last pump session to chase the deadline—her breasts paid the price. Heavy, aching, veins prominent under the thin silk of her blouse, they had begun leaking through the nursing pads sometime during the last hour. Dark, irregular patches bloomed across the cream fabric, impossible to hide.
Victor noticed.
He had been pacing behind her chair, pointing at figures, voice low and clipped, when his gaze dropped. He stopped mid-sentence. His throat w
