The sound of Devandra’s footsteps echoed firmly as he entered the luxurious hotel suite reserved for that evening’s meeting. The crystal chandelier glittered above, but the atmosphere inside was heavy, suffocating with unspoken tension.

Vania was already seated on the long sofa, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. She knew Devandra’s invitation tonight was not about business. It was never just business. There was something personal in the air—something poisonous.

“Vania,” Devandra’s voice was low, deliberate, but his eyes burned with fire. “I’ve been hearing many things lately. About you. About Arga.”

Vania swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure. “If you want to talk about work, then talk....