Amber’s pov
Dave uttered those words and promptly walked out of the office, not waiting for my response. Was this a threat? Why was he so insistent on going out for a drink with me? What was he up to? Ever since he kicked me out of his house and caused me harm, my hatred for him had intensified, permeating not just my heart but my entire being.
I stood there for nearly four minutes, contemplating the direct consequences of his words. I shifted backwards, leaning against my desk, searching for an escape. Just then, my phone rang—it was Adrian calling. I straightened up and answered the call.
"Where are you?" he spoke, his anger palpable.
"I'm at my office," I replied.
"To do what? Who told you to go to the office when I wasn't there?" he interrogated.
This question left me at a loss for words. As I pondered how to respond, he added, "Why didn't you seek my permission before leaving the house?"
I didn't want to divulge anything about Dave. He had deceived me, and I chose to vie
