Ella
The next day, I went to work with conviction set in my heart. I wouldn’t let this run-in with the mafia hold me back. If anything, it would only serve to fuel me.
But the moment my office door swung open, I knew something was wrong. Mr. Henderson’s face was an unnerving shade of red, and his eyes shot daggers at me. It seemed the walls had ears, and the news of my recent altercation with Logan had already reached him.
“Ella,” he started, his voice dripping with restrained fury, “did you really tear up a contract with one of the most influential clients this firm has ever had?”
I squared my shoulders and met his gaze directly. “Yes, Mr. Henderson, I did.”
Mr. Henderson drew in a long, sharp breath that sounded like a hiss. “And why, pray tell, did you do that?”
