Chapter 38: After the Click
The click echoed louder than it should have.
Misty stared at the phone for three long seconds, her fingers still wrapped around the receiver like she might shatter it if she squeezed just a little harder.
"He hung up on me."
The words didn’t even feel real.
Christian Velloran hadn’t shouted, hadn’t cursed. He hadn’t even indulged in anger. He had dismissed her like a clerk with an expired ledger—cold, quiet, and efficient.
As if she were already irrelevant.
Her hand trembled, then jerked back. The receiver clattered against the edge of the desk, then the floor. She barely heard it.
’No.’
’No, no, no.’
She turned, sweeping her arm across the surface of her desk, sending pens, files, and a crystal vase crashing to the floor in a cascade of breaking glass and pointless expense.
The silence that followed wasn’t soft.
It rang.