As the room began to empty and the echoes of footsteps faded down the corridor, Diego turned to Esmeralda, his smile still plastered across his face, though his eyes had a sharpness to them. “See? That went perfectly,” he said, his tone patronizing, as though he expected her to praise him. “You didn’t need to say anything. Just your presence was enough.”
Esmeralda’s anger flared, her fists clenching again at his dismissiveness. “Why didn't you tell me it was my idea you were selling off?” she shot back, unable to keep the bitterness from seeping into her voice. “You made everyone here think it was your idea when clearly it was mine, do you know how many years I have been making plans for this perfume brand."
Diego's expression shifted from smug satisfaction to irritation, the corners of
