ANNA'S POV

As I slid the last set of documents neatly into the drawer beneath my desk, I glanced at the clock on the wall before letting out a small, humorless scoff.

So she quit.

Well, that was unexpected.

I honestly didn’t think she would. From the way she had looked earlier — tired eyes, desperation barely hidden behind forced politeness, I had assumed she needed the money badly enough to tolerate whatever I planned to put her through. I thought survival would matter more to her than pride.

Guess her ego is still bigger than her bank account.

I tapped my fingers lightly against the desk, staring at nothing...