Alexander leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen. The video of udia was right there, waiting to be watched again. He had already seen it three times, but something about it still nagged at him. Maybe it was the forced smile she stered on her face or the way she almost rolled her eyes when she apologized. He wasn''t sure. But whatever it was, he couldn''t shake the feeling that this was just another one of udia''s games. The phone in his hand buzzed. ire was calling.


    "ire," he answered, trying to keep his tone neutral.


    "I got it," ire said, her voice clipped and business-like as usual. "udia made the video and sent the letter. We''ll upload it on Metacortex''s social media."


    Alexander nodded, though ire couldn''t see him. "Yeah, I figured you would. It''s pretty polished for something so...st minute."


    ire didn''t miss a beat. "Of course. We can''t afford for this to get any messier than it already is."


    Alexander couldn''t help but wince. "Yeah, about that. You''re sure this will smooth things over?"


    "Alexander, I''m sure," ire replied, her voice calm but firm. "But you need to make a statement as well. People are confused about what''s happening. If you don''t address it, they''ll start specting, and that''s thest thing we need right now." He sighed. "Right. I''ll put something together."


    ire didn''t soften. "I hope this kind of mistake doesn''t happen again, Alexander."


    He clenched his jaw. The disappointment in her voice stung more than he''d like to admit. "I''ll take care of it."


    The line went silent for a moment, and then ire said, "Good," before hanging up.


    Alexander sat there for a while, staring at his phone, feeling... what? Sad? Disappointed? Maybe both. He did everything ire asked him to, but it never seemed to be enough. No matter how hard he worked to clean up the messes or follow her lead, their rtionship wasn''t improving. She was always one step ahead of him, and he was stuck ying catch-up.


    Shaking his head, he decided to pull up the video again. This time, he wasn''t watching udia''s stiff apology-he was reading thements below it.


    "Who is she???"


    "Why is she even apologizing? Did I miss something?"


    "This seems like a PR stunt..."


    "She should''ve done this privately, it''s so awkward to watch."


    "I don''t care what she''s apologizing for, she''s gorgeous!"


    Alexander couldn''t help but chuckle at thatst one. The public was so fickle, and half of them didn''t even know why they were watching the video in the first ce.


    ire was sitting at her desk, watching the same video with a cold, detached expression. She scrolled through thements as well, but her focus was different. She wasn''t amused by the confusion or the randompliments. She was analyzing every word, every reaction. Public perception was everything in her world, and udia''s little stunt was bound to stir up mixed reactions. Onement caught her eye: "How can someone mess up this badly and still look like they don''t care?"


    ire smirked, leaning back in her chair. Exactly, she thought. How can someone be so reckless?


    Just then, the door to her office opened, and Matthew walked in, looking curious. "She really made the video, huh?"


    ire looked up, calm as ever, and nodded. "Yes. But she should''ve been more careful. This kind of thing can spiral out of control if you''re not cautious."


    Matthew raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorway. "Seems like she''s not too worried about that."


    ire stood up, reaching for her bag. "No, she''s not. And that''s exactly why she''s going to trip over herself at some point. You can''t be that careless in this business."


    Matthew watched her, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Where are you headed?"


    "I''m going to brunch," ire replied, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "You want toe?"


    Matthew shook his head with a chuckle. "Already ate, but thanks. Though, I wouldn''t mind hanging out here for a bit." He gave her a yful grin. "Maybe take over the big chair while you''re gone?"


    ire rolled her eyes but smiled. "As if that''s not what you already do when I''m not here."


    Matthew put his hand on his chest in mock offense. "Me? Take advantage of your office? Never."


    ire waved him off, heading for the door. "Try not to mess anything up, okay?"


    "No promises," he called after her with a wink.


    ire stepped into the lobby of her office building, her designer shades in ce, making a beeline for the exit. She could already spot them-two journalists, armed with notepads and microphones, hovering by the doors like vultures.


    "Ms. Peterson, anyments on udia Wright''s apology video?" one of them blurted as soon as ire came within earshot.


    ire barely nced their way. She gave a tight nod, forced a smile that didn''t quite reach her eyes, and pushed through the ss doors to where her driver was waiting by the sleek ck sedan. Without a word, she slid into the backseat and the car pulled away. As soon as they were out of sight, she let out a long breath, sinking into the leather seat. The video had only been out for 30 minutes, and the press was already hounding her. It was going to be a long day.


    She pulled out her phone, and


    opened up social media. The trending topics confirmed her suspicions. udia Wright''s Apology" was everywhere, and thements were pouring in. Some were supportive, some tearing udia apart, and some just making jokes out of the whole ordeal. ire chuckled to herself as she scrolled through the chaos. She locked her phone and tossed it into her bag.


    The 30-minute drive to the


    restaurant passed in a blur of city lights and quiet thoughts. Once they arrived, ire stepped out of the car her heels clicking softly on the pavement. The restaurant was a cozy French bistro tucked away from the main streets, perfect for a quiet lunch.


    Inside, a smiling hostess greeted her. "Good afternoon, do you have a reservation?"


    "Yeah, under ire Peterson," she replied, still feeling the buzz from all the social media noise.


    "Right this way," the hostess said, leading her through the softly lit dining area.


    ire thanked her as she was shown to a corner table near the window. She took her seat, and the hostess handed her a menu before excusing herself.


    As ire settled in, ncing at the


    options, a familiar voice drifted from


    across the room. She looked up just in time to see Adrian, shaking hands with someone at a nearby table. He had his usual smooth confidence, wearing a sharp navy suit that seemed custom-tailored to make him look even more charming than he already was.


    Once his client left, Adrian spotted ire and made a beeline for her table. A mischievous grin spread across his face as he approached.


    "Well, well, well, look who''s here, having a secret lunch without me," he teased.


    ire''s initial surprise faded into a grin. She stood up, meeting him halfway, and they hugged briefly.


    "Adrian, it''s been a while!" she said with augh.


    "Too long," he agreed, taking the seat across from her without needing an invitation. "What''s a big shot like you doing here all by herself?"


    ire rolled her eyes yfully. "You know me, always doing things solo."


    Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Still? I''d think by now you''d have somepany-at least for lunch."


    Before ire could answer, a third person joined their little reunion. A young woman, holding a notepad, her press badge dangling from her neck, stood by the table with a hopeful smile.


    "I''m sorry to interrupt, Ms. Peterson. I''m with Channel 7 News, and I just wanted to ask about—"


    Here we go again, ire thought. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from rolling her eyes. "I''m having lunch," she said, keeping her voice even, though her irritation was rising. "And I''d very much like to do that without any interruptions." The journalist hesitated, clearly debating whether to push her luck.


    Adrian leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Look, she''s on her lunch break. You don''t want to be the reason ire Peterson loses her appetite, trust me. So, either leave her alone, or I''ll have the manager ask you to leave. Your choice."