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Eighteen

Later that evening, Sienna Williams leaned back against the plush armchair in her study, feeling the lingering warmth from her everything shower. She had spent the day out with her twins and the mixture of laughter, ice-cream, and a bit of retail therapy had left her both exhilarated and exhausted. The shower had helped wash away the day's residue, leaving her feeling refreshed and ready to tackle her evening tasks.

She wrapped her silk robe tighter around herself and picked up her phone, dialing into the call with the CEO back at their headquarters in Louisiana. The conversation was routine but necessary, once which she usually receives from her assistant, Melissa—updates on operations, financial reports, and the usual rundown of issues that needed her attention, but today, she wanted to tackle these issues herself.

"Michaelson," she said, her tone brisk but friendly. "What's the latest on the New Orleans project?"

Michaelson's voice crackled through the speaker. "Hey, Sienna. We've
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