Victoria watched us, her expression completely blank, as if she were watching a boring television show.

Marcus twisted my arm down.

A sharp pain shot up my shoulder.

My fingers weakened, losing their grip on the heavy paper folder.

He snatched the manila folder from my hand.

He stepped back and handed it immediately to Victoria.

I stumbled against my car door, gasping for air.

My wrist throbbed where his fingers had dug into my skin.

Victoria took the folder and flipped it open.

She ran a manicured nail over the top sheet of my research notes.

“The structural formula for the new stabilizer,” she murmured.

She looked up at me, a genuine smile finally appearing on her face.

“Julian said you were close to fixing the shelf-life issue.”

My heart stopped for a beat.

“Julian?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“Of course,” Victoria said, closing the folder with a sharp snap.

“You didn’t think Andrew’s own family was blind to his failures, did you?”

She slipped the folder under her arm.

“Andrew is sentimental,” she said.

“Sentimentality does not keep a multi-billion-dollar corporation afloat.”