Back in the quiet sanctuary of her office, Ava sat with her hands folded neatly on her desk, staring at absolutely nothing. The mangoes were gone—devoured without ceremony.
The paperwork had long since blurred into meaningless lines. Even Adelle had excused herself to "check the hallway security" but really just needed a break from Ava's oddly silent, pacing energy.
Ava checked the time again.
5:52 PM.
She didn't know why she felt like a teenager about to get scolded—or worse—caught. And technically, she's still 19, so she thinks it's still fine.
Her nerves had no business showing up like this. She was Lady Avarielle Summers: business heiress, top of her class, survivor of international scandals, and currently with child. She had faced the press. The public. Shen.
And yet here she was, nervously adjusting the position of a pen she had no intention of using. The worst part? She hadn't studied at all, and her exam was at 7 AM sharp tomorrow.
