The rain that afternoon fell in a thin veil, streaking the glass windows of Vania’s office. The city beyond was blurred behind the droplets, like a reflection of her heart—clouded with doubt.

On her desk lay two open stacks of documents. One contained Arga’s business strategy—clean, clever, but risky. The other was from Devandra—filled with “warnings” and evidence he claimed would expose Arga’s true intentions.

Vania pressed her fingers to her temples, her thoughts spinning without rest.

If I choose wrong… I won’t just lose someone. I’ll destroy my career.

A soft knock came at the door. Arga stepped inside, wearing a dark blue shirt damp at the shoulders from...