Dylan glanced back at Chloe, who was standing there in front of his desk, her posture tense, her lips slightly parted as though she had something more to say. Her blue eyes held a flicker of confusion, and he could feel the weight of her unspoken questions. But he didn’t give her the chance. With a deliberate, controlled motion, he stood from his chair, shoulders squared, conviction solidifying within him."Abort the project," Dylan said, his voice devoid of hesitation.Chloe blinked, clearly startled. She held a thick folder of documents, the finalized paperwork for the publication of Hotel de Montemayor. The project was in its final stages. The launch was scheduled. Everything was set. And yet here was Dylan, tossing it aside.“Wait… really, Dylan?” Chloe stammered, taking a step closer to his desk, her confusion growing by the second. “I mean, we’re almost there. The press is lined up, the promotional materials are printed. Besides—” she hesitated, her voice softening—"this is the
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