Ana's POV
When Julio rushed back carrying the burritos, Morris had already vanished.
Julio exhaled deeply, glancing at me with confusion written across his face. "Where did Morris Welch go?"
"He's gone," I replied evenly.
My mood felt subdued, though not exactly heartbroken.
Julio's brow creased as he shot to his feet, confronting me with protective fury. "Did he hurt you? Just say the word and I'll make him pay!"
He began rolling up his sleeves, ready to hunt Morris down.
I sighed, feeling drained. "Relax, Julio. He didn't hurt me."
Morris hadn't just avoided hurting me—he'd actually helped me tremendously.
From Veridia to Marcel, these past few months had left me indebted to him in countless ways.
Even moments ago, after pressing me relentlessly for an answer, he'd left behind two business cards.
He knew my studio desperately needed skilled people.
These two contacts were handpicked talent—seasoned designers with solid experience.
