Carmen
The message I received from Bianca was mostly expected. Especially since the longer her son was missing, the more the chances of him being dead, the words carrying desperation even through the short phrasing.
"You can leave!" I told Vera, who had just finished serving the wine, leaving the bottle neatly on the table before turning around to leave without another word.
Insisting on serving me even though I knew she wanted nothing more than to use me for her own goals.
"Nico is aware," I muttered to myself, not wanting to think about her for a second more as I laid halfway on the sofa, one arm draped lazily over the backrest while I sipped from the wine in my glass, the taste barely registering.
It was mid afternoon and I should have been in the company but I wasn't in the mood.
Moreover, Nico said it himself—there were more people already reaching out to me, from other countries and other companies, wanting to partner with me.
