Page 24 of Their Arrangement
Royal’s smirk widened. “I thought so.”
My stomach twisted. I felt small. Smaller than I’d ever felt in this place—and that was saying something.
Loyal looked at me then.
Just once.
But there was no comfort in it.
Only disappointment.
The kind that didn’t have to be loud to hurt.
Like I’d failed him. Like I should’ve known better than to show up unarmed in a battlefield made of suits and silent wars.
“I—I wasn’t given any briefings,” I stammered, trying to steady my voice. “I didn’t know?—”
Royal waved a hand, already bored. “Of course not. You’re here for sentimental reasons. Not qualifications.”
That stung more than I wanted to admit.
The third man cleared his throat. “Should we move on?”
No one answered.
Not really.
Loyal didn’t say anything.
He just flipped a page in his notes and nodded.
Royal leaned back like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just carved a fresh scar under my skin.
And I sat still.
Burning.
The meeting ended with the flick of Royal’s pen.
He stood, rolled his sleeves casually like the conversation had been light, fun. The older executive shook both brothers’ hands and offered a polite smile. When he glanced at me, it was the same look you gave a forgotten item in the background of a photo.
He would never remember my name.
That certainty hit harder than I expected.
I stayed seated until the room was empty.
I couldn’t trust my legs not to shake.
Loyal stood, gathered his folder and notes with the kind of precision that made me ache. He didn’t look at me. Not right away.
He walked to the door.
Paused.
Turned.
Our eyes met.
