Fiona's plan — the carefully crafted act of concern, the subtle manipulation — had backfired spectacularly.
And the worst part? Anna hadn't even needed to say a single word to win.
"Director Wilsmith, you…" Fiona started, her voice faltering when Wilsmith's calm but cutting gaze met hers.
He leaned back slightly, folding his arms. "Are you satisfied now, Miss Fiona?" he asked smoothly. "I considered your words."
The faint smile that followed made Fiona flinch. It wasn't warm — it was deliberate, edged with quiet irony.
Still, she forced a shaky smile and nodded quickly. "O-of course, Director."
Wilsmith nodded once before glancing at Anna. "Miss Anna, you truly have loyal friends who care about you," he said, his tone deceptively mild. "Look at Miss Fiona — she came all the way here to convince me on your behalf."
He paused, his eyes glinting with amusement.
Though all she really did was try to convince me otherwise, he thought dryly.
