LIANAAs I stepped into the familiar hustle and bustle of the office, my thoughts still lingered on the conversation with Zaylen. But before I could fully immerse myself in the day's tasks, a voice sliced through the chatter, sending a shiver down my spine. "Liana," James called out, his tone a sickening blend of remorse and desperation, "did you get my flowers?" I turned to face him, my expression impassive despite the tumult of emotions churning within me — mostly rage. "Yes, I did," I replied curtly, my voice tinged with a cold edge, "and I threw them into the trash where they belong." His face fell, a mask of hurt and disbelief. "Liana, please," he pleaded, reaching out to touch my arm, "can we talk? Just for a few minutes?" I sighed, relenting to his request with a begrudging nod. Leading him to a secluded corner of the office, I turned to face him, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. "What do you want, James?" I asked, my voice clipped. He swallowed hard, his eyes dartin
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