Page 113 of Guarded Love

"I can't discuss other cases?—"

"So there are other cases." Lilly's voice is sharp. "You just admitted there are other women who've come forward about Leo."

"I didn't say that. I simply can't discuss confidential matters involving other individuals or clients."

“Okay, so where does that leave us?” I ask although I already know the answer deep down in my soul.

"As I said, we will be in touch once we've had a chance to review everything discussed today. Thank you both for your time, and we appreciate your bravery in bringing these concerns to our attention."

Talia opens her mouth like she might speak, but Dorian disconnects from the call. Just like that.

She stares at us for a couple of seconds. Then she looks directly at the camera.

“Thank you both again,” she says softly. “I’ll make sure that you get the justice you deserve.”

She hesitates just long enough for me to wonder if she means it. Then she nods once, and she’s gone too.

I stare at my screen in amazement because there’s no way that just happened. My hands are still positioned over the keyboard like I'm about to type something, but there's nothing left to say. The call is over.

Lilly's face is mirroring exactly what I’m feeling. Confused. Frustrated. Empty.

"Well," she says after a long moment. "That was..."

"Useless," I finish.

"I was going to say disappointing, but useless works too."

I lean back in my chair, replaying the entire conversation in my head. On paper, it looked like everything it should have been. Professional, scheduled meeting time, opportunity to share our experiences. But underneath all the polite language and corporate protocols, it felt like we'd just been managed rather than heard.

"He never asked for specifics," Lilly continues. "No request for screenshots, no follow-up questions about dates or incidents. Nothing that would actually help build a case."

My fingers drum against my desk. "And the way he kept repeating the same phrases. 'We take this seriously,' 'internal review process,' 'appropriate discretion.' Like he was reading from a script."

"Because he probably was." Lilly's voice is bitter. "God, I feel so stupid for thinking they'd actually care."

"You're not stupid. We both hoped for better." But even as I say it, something sits wrong in my stomach. The whole thingfelt choreographed, like we were being walked through motions rather than participating in a genuine discussion.

Lilly sighs on screen. "So what now? Do we just wait for them to call us back in six months with some bullshit about 'insufficient evidence'?"

I don't have an answer for her. Dorian’s parting words echo in my head: We will be in touch. But I doubted he actually would.

However, Talia’s words still lingered. “I’ll make sure that you get the justice you deserve.” She seemed as if she meant it and that we could trust her. That was and the fact that we did the right thing was the only thing I could hold on to.

"I need to think," I say finally. "Process all of this."

"Yeah. Me too." Lilly's image flickers as she adjusts her camera. "Thanks for doing this with me, Willow. Even if it didn't go how we hoped."

"Of course. We'll figure out what comes next."

After she logs off, I'm left alone with my laptop screen and the growing certainty that we've just been politely dismissed. I close the browser window and stare at my desktop wallpaper as I run through the call again. Nothing he said was outright wrong. He listened, he acknowledged our concerns, he promised to review everything. But there was no urgency, no indication that our reports would lead to anything. It was just the smooth, practiced language of someone whose job is to make problems disappear quietly.

My phone buzzes. Blaise again.

Blaise: How is it going?

I stare at the message, trying to figure out how to explain how disappointed and frustrated I am. How do you describe the feeling of being handled?

Me: Are you around? The call with Leo's management is over and I don't trust them.