Chapter 18

Olivia Martins

“Come in.” Mr. Wesley called out from behind the heavy oakwood door, his voice muffled but audible.

I took a deep breath and pulled it open, stepping inside and closing it firmly behind me. His head shot up, a flicker of surprise crossing his usually composed features. “Olivia,” he said, a warm smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you.” I murmured, settling into the chair opposite his large desk

“What can I do for you, Olivia?” He asks, leaning back in his chair, his reading glasses perched on his nose.

Avoiding his gaze, I tentatively slid the printed application across the polished surface of his desk. My palms were slick with sweat, and I chewed nervously on my lips as he scanned the document. Each passing second stretched into an eternity. Finally, he looked up at me, his expression grave.

“What’s this?” He asks, his voice carefully neutral.

He knew perfectly well what it was, but he wanted