Chapter 2

I replied coolly: [You're right. I nearly forgot you were involved too. You're suspended. Your superiors will send someone to take over your position.]

With that, I called the supervision office and instructed them to take full control of the negotiation team's personnel assignments.

"Anyone who tries to defend Charles or Brielle will be rotated to the conflict zone. If they refuse, they'll have to cover the team's investment in their training, as per the rules," I said.

I stroked my daughter's Lola's favorite stuffed rabbit as I gave the order, each word slow and firm.

All those newbies who were sticking up for Brielle in the comments? I was the one who pulled strings to get them in. I trained them myself, running them through mock negotiations and case studies, teaching them everything from the ground up.

But now, they were all busy cozying up to Charles, already forgetting who gave them their chance.

They were all the same, just chasing after whoever got the power.

People with crooked intentions would never make it as real negotiators.

They needed to get sent to the toughest spots, toughen up, and finally learn what responsibility and boundaries really mean.

After I hung up, I realized Charles had blown up my phone with more than twenty missed calls.

He must've been desperate. He even sent me a friend request with a frantic message, saying: [Pick up the phone now!]

Before I could even react, another call came in.

The second I answered, Charles yelled, "Are you insane? I'm about to get certified as an international negotiator and Brielle's about to make it into the core team. How can you dump us in the conflict zone?

"Ivanna, what happened to Lola was an accident. Believe me, I'm hurting even more than you are!

"Those kidnappers were total psychos. No one could've pulled off a successful negotiation with them. It's not on me, and it's not on Brielle either.

"How many times do I have to spell this out for you? You just won't let it go. I didn't want you listening to the recording because I was afraid it'd push you over the edge.

"And now, you're not only making stuff up, you're taking it out on her and trying to kick her off the team."

His usually steady voice was trembling with rage.

I kept my tone calm. "When you rushed off like that, was there really some urgent negotiation? Brielle said you were helping her out emotionally.

"Was it really a slip-up from her? Or was this all a cover? Did you two plan to use the mission as an excuse for a date?"

Suddenly, I heard him stop breathing for a moment on the other end.

After a couple seconds, he forced himself to sound calm. "What are you talking about? You're being totally unreasonable."

Then Brielle chimed in, her voice gentle. "Mr. Prescott, don't fight with Ivanna. We rarely get a chance to unwind. Let's not let this ruin it.

"When we get back, I'll apologize to her myself. Whatever punishment she gives me, I'll accept."

The call ended abruptly.

Guess he couldn't bear letting something like this kill the vibe.

I hugged Lola's stuffed rabbit, tears streaming down my face.

"Mommy will make sure you get justice," I whispered.

I cried myself to sleep and woke up with a splitting headache.

The next morning, I rubbed my temples as I headed downstairs, hoping an iced coffee would wake me up.

Charles walked into the living room carrying a storage box. When he saw me, he paused, deliberately softening his expression.

He said, "You're up? I sorted through Lola's drawings. See if you like how I organized them.

"I know how much these mean to you, so I didn't let anyone else touch them. I came back late last night and did it myself."

I was about to say I'd handle it myself when someone wearing my house loungewear stepped out of the guest room.

Those were the matching loungewear sets Charles had specially bought for us as a couple. We only ever wore them at home.

Ivanna walked quickly over to Charles, holding a rag. "Mr. Prescott, you should take a break. Let me wipe down the table. Ivanna, if you don't mind, I can help you organize things too."

Charles shifted away from her hand, his tone a little stiff. "No need. Ivanna can handle it herself."

He turned to me and explained, "It was raining when we got back, and Brielle's clothes got soaked.

"I told her to go back to the dorm and change, but she insisted on doing something to make up for it, so I gave her one of your matching loungewear sets to wear."

Brielle twisted the rag in her hands, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ivanna, I'm really sorry about yesterday. I didn't touch any of Lola's stuff. I just wanted to help clean up a little. Please don't take it personally."

"Alright, what's in the past stays there," Charles said, his voice gentler as he turned to me. "Ivanna, she means well. Don't read too much into it."

He paused, then added, "I've rearranged my schedule for next week. I'll stay home with you for a few days, and we can talk about work after Lola's funeral."

I didn't say anything. My eyes landed on the corner of a drawing peeking out from the storage box. It was a family portrait Lola had drawn, with our three hands tightly clasped together.