CHAPTER 72

The next morning, I arrived at the office earlier than usual, still feeling the lingering weight of my conversation with Thiago the night before. His reassurance had settled some of my nerves a bit, but not all. Charles Bermudez was still a problem, and I wasn’t about to let him keep disrupting my work.

When I stepped into my office, however, I instantly felt something was off. My desk that was usually spotless and way too well put together was now messed up. My personal files were usually in a controlled state of chaos, but everything now looked disorganised and unsightly. That’s when I noticed him—Charles—sitting casually in the chair behind my desk, rifling through my paperwork as if he had every right to be there.

That was when my blood boiled.

“Excuse me,” I said, my voice sharp as I stormed into the room. “What the hell do you think you’re doing in my office?”

Charles glanced up from the files with that same smug, arrogant smile he’d worn at the board meeting yesterday. “Ah, goo