Mr. Hilaire’s eyes, sharp and piercing, met Maite’s as she crossed the room. He took in her every detail, her emerald green dress, the bold red lipstick, the confidence that radiated from her. He had a keen eye for detail, for sensing the subtle cues that whispered secrets about a person. As he observed her, a memory flickered in his mind, a fleeting image that had been tucked away in the recesses of his thoughts. He had seen her before, in his own home. He had been watching from his office window, the scene unfolding before him like a silent film. She had been searching for his driver, Aaron, a young man he had hired to chauffeur his daughter, Hilary, to and from school. Maite hadn’t seen him, but he had been watching, his gaze a silent observer, intrigued by her determination, her intensity. Now, she stood before him, her presence commanding attention, her purpose clear. He couldn’t help but wonder if she had come to his office to confront him about his driver, about the
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