Page 21 of Their Arrangement

To deny it.

To whisper something back.

But it didn’t.

It just looked at me.

Bruised.

Tired.

And silent.

3

CLOE

The message camethrough internal chat.

Loyal L.:Meet me at conference 3B. Bring a notebook. Don’t be late.

No other context. No subject line. No prep time.

Just a command.

I checked the clock. Six minutes.

Six minutes to figure out where conference 3B was, and pray my legs could carry me there without collapsing under the weight of borrowed clothes and a stomach hollow with dread.

I grabbed my notebook—half-filled with frantic scribbles and hopeful lies—and rushed into the hallway. My skirt bunched at the sides from sitting too long, the fabric clinging to my thighs with every step. I tugged it down, but the hem was already fraying. It was one wash away from unraveling entirely.

I passed two assistants with matching Louis Vuitton crossbodies, their heels clicking in perfect unison. They didn’t step aside. I had to move. Their eyes barely skimmed over me, like I was background noise.

I was used to that now.

But it still hurt.

I found the door to Conference 3B halfway open. A sliver of sound slipped out—low male voices. One of them laughing.

Royal.

Of course it was him.

I wiped my palms on my skirt, heart thudding, and pushed the door open.

Three men sat at the long table.

Royal at the center, lounging like it was a photoshoot and he was the main event. Loyal beside him—back straight, sleeves rolled, pen already in hand. And a third man I didn’t recognize—mid-fifties, steel-gray hair, an expensive suit and a presence that screamed power.

He looked like the kind of man who monogrammed his cufflinks and forgot women’s names before they even walked out of the room.

Loyal looked up, just once. “Cloe,” he said, nodding toward a seat near the screen. “You’re here to observe. Don’t speak unless asked.”

I nodded. Quiet. Small.

I moved quickly, kept my eyes down, slipped into the chair like I hoped it wouldn’t notice. My notebook hit the table with a soft thud, my pen already uncapped.

Royal didn’t look at me.