Anabelle's POVThe smell of gasoline, cheap air freshener, and something faintly burnt filled the cramped car repair store, and I hated every second of it.I tapped my manicured nails sharply against the counter, each click echoing louder than necessary, my irritation building with every passing second.“This is exactly why I don’t delegate important things to incompetent people” I said slowly, dangerously, The mechanic in front of me, a greasy, middle-aged man with oil-stained hands and a nervous smile, shifted uncomfortably.“Yes, ma’am. We’re doing everything we can. The part we need—” he said quickly. “I don’t care about the part,” I cut him off coldly. “I care about results.”Behind me, I could feel my guards stiffen because this was their fault.I turned my head slightly, my gaze slicing through the two men standing a few feet behind me.“You had one job,” I said, my voice low but razor-sharp. “Ma’am—” one of them started.“No, don’t insult me by explaining failure. Fix it” I
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