Echoes of Unrequited Love

Chapter 100

I trailed behind Hogan and Zachary, tiptoeing into the CEO’s office with butterflies in my stomach.

“Hey, would black tea be okay?”

I glanced at Hogan as he was taking off his suit jacket and gave a small nod.

Moments later, in the vast CEO’s office, it was just Hogan and me. The man sat in his black shirt at his desk, his long, slender fingers flipping through documents, a face already serious now etched with deep concentration, as if I didn’t exist.

He was obviously giving me the cold shoulder. But I wasn’t in a rush. When people were asking for a favor, they’d got to play the part, right?

So I picked up a business magazine from the coffee table and started reading patiently. However, before I could even finish the table of contents, Hogan spoke up, “Ms. March seems to be quite at ease.”

He said this without looking up from his documents, his tone casual but dripping with sarcasm. To be precise, this was the second time I’d seen him tonight, and both times he’d spoken with this weird, sarcastic twist.

I was used to his antics. Closing the magazine, I spoke softly, “Mr. Zade, there’s something I feel I need to clarify with you.”

Hogan didn’t respond, which usually meant I could continue.

making things difficult for her.” I paused for a breath before continuing, “Also, contacting

heard you went out of

on “out

choice but to swallow my pride and say, “It’s our

with disdain, “Don’t

me momentarily speechless. After all,

you’re talking settlement in front of the lawyer, the next you’re busy scouting for one.” Hogan sneered, “Is this how you always play the field,

his teeth over the words

him that our rush to find a lawyer was only because Cecilia

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Chapter 100

imagining you as someone who is petty. But

caught dead saying something like that, but desperate times and

butter him up like that. He was silent for a couple of seconds before awkwardly averting his gaze back to his documents and saying lightly. “Xaviera, I never realized before how slick you are

I decided to strike while the iron

pressed the phone on his desk, asking, “What’s taking you so long to make a