As usual, Marco headed to the office, his expression calm but his mind braced for the worst. He knew his father too well to expect mercy. After everything that had happened, he was almost certain a suspension notice—or worse, a termination letter—would be waiting on his desk.
But to his surprise, nothing of the sort happened.
The office buzzed with its usual rhythm. No icy stares. No whispered gossip. No summons to the director's room. Everything seemed... normal.
Too normal.
The eerie calm unsettled Marco more than an open confrontation would have. A growing unease crept into his chest. Something wasn't right. And whatever it was, it was quietly building beneath the surface—just out of sight.
That evening, Evan once again found himself face-to-face with Aryan—by pure coincidence, or perhaps fate. His car had broken down on the way to the airport, and after several failed attempts to fix it, Evan's driver stepped out to hail a passing vehicle.
The one who stopped was Aryan.
