Page 122 of Strictly Business

“Yeah,” I lie, trying to keep my voice even. “Just tired.”

He hesitates, then pulls back, pressing another kiss to my temple before settling against the pillows. He doesn’t push further. Doesn’t touch me again. Soon, his breathing evens out, and I know he’s asleep.

But sleep doesn’t come for me. Instead, my mind races, already planning what I’ll do once he leaves tomorrow.

Chapter forty

Nicholas

Iglance at the clock again, the relentless ticking echoing in the silence of my office.

It’s been over an hour now, and Amara still hasn’t shown up to work.

Where the hell is she?

She told me this morning to go in alone because she’d be a little late, but this? This is different. She’s never been this late before, and every minute that passes feels like a weight on my chest. If she needed a break, if she wanted to stay home, she could’ve just told me. She could ask me for anything, and I’d give it to her.

Another glance at the clock.

Still nothing.

The frustration inside me tightens, curling in my stomach.

I grab my phone, my fingers itching to send her a message, but before I can hit send, a knock at the door breaks through the chaos in my head.

Fucking finally.

“Come in,” I say, my lips twitching into a grin, anticipation swelling in my chest. Is it normal to be this obsessed with your fiancée? I don’t think so, but right now, I don’t care.

The door creaks open, but my grin quickly fades when I realize it’s not Amara.

It’s Sophie.

For a moment, I don’t know whether to feel relieved or frustrated that it’s not Amara standing there. Maybe Sophie has answers. Maybe she knows something I don’t. I feel like I’m teetering on the verge of losing my mind.

“Sophie. What can I do for you?”

Sophie doesn’t seem to notice the shift in my mood. She steps into the room, holding a stack of papers in her hands.

“These came in for you,” she says, her tone sharper than usual, a bite to it I’m not used to hearing from her.

I nod, momentarily confused. Sophie’s never sounded like this before. But I don’t have time to think about it. Amara’s still not here. And I have no idea why.

“Thanks,” I mutter, grabbing the papers, already half-turning to reach for my phone.

She turns around and leaves, the door clicking shut behind her.

I glance down at the papers in my hands, expecting nothing more than routine contracts, maybe a report or two to sign. But then my eyes catch the words on the first page. My stomach drops, and for a moment, the room feels like it’s closing in around me.

Amara’s name.

And under it, in bold letters:Resignation.

What the fuck?

She still has two weeks left on her contract. Two weeks before I can finalize the deal that’ll get her everything she wants. That’llgive her the promotion, the stability, everything she’s worked for.

I scan the letter again, my confusion growing with every word. There’s nothing in here about a transfer, a raise, or a move to another department. Just… resignation.

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