Marcel stood just by the door, breathing fast, his face pale like someone who had just rushed up a staircase. “Boss,” he said, still catching his breath, “have you not heard about your wife—”He paused immediately and corrected himself, realizing how that would sound. “Sorry, I mean Charlotte’s engagement with Caleb.”Nathan’s lips curved into something that looked like a smile, but it was empty, painful to even look at. He turned his face slowly toward the television still playing the clip of Charlotte and Caleb from last night.He pointed at the screen, his voice low and cold. “Oh, you mean this?”Marcel turned and saw the broadcast. “Oh,” he said, nodding awkwardly, “you’ve seen it.”Nathan just gave a dry laugh, the kind that carried no joy, only bitterness. Marcel scratched his head, stepping closer. “Look, Boss,” he said carefully, “I know it’s… hard. But maybe you should just be happy for her.”Nathan turned sharply, his eyes burning. “Happy? Why should I be happy for her? Why
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