Mirela

I leaned back against the plush sofa, swirling the wine in my glass, a satisfied smirk curling on my lips as the news anchor droned on about the chaos unfolding outside Arlene’s press conference.

Sarah paced restlessly in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights twinkling behind her. She turned sharply, eyes wide with disbelief.

“I still can’t believe you pulled this off in such a short time,” she said, shaking her head. “How did you do it?”

Before I could respond, the elevator dinged, and Daisy strolled in, a proud grin plastered across her face.

Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, and she strutted over like she...