The flashing lights were blinding.
Reporters swarmed around her, microphones shoved forward, cameras snapping wildly as voices overlapped in a chaotic mess.
She has had enough of all this.
"Miss Rose! Can you confirm—"
"Is it true that—"
"The investment deal—"
Rose didn't stop. Her heels clicked against the pavement, sharp and unbothered, her expression unreadable as she made her way to the sleek black car waiting for her. With one firm motion, she yanked the door open, slid inside, and slammed it shut, drowning out the outside noise.
Finally, Silence.
Well, almost.
A man sat beside her, lounging against the leather seat like he owned the world. Mr. Kelvin.
His suit was crisp, expensive, every inch of him exuding arrogance. His face was as composed as ever, his fingers adjusting his silver cufflinks as if the world outside didn't exist. And then, lazily, like he had all the time in the world, he turned his head toward her, his dark gaze locking onto hers.
