Chapter 89. In His Own Trap

Camila leaned forward, her dark hair cascading like a shadow across the polished mahogany table that separated them. The soft amber glow of the restaurant’s ambient lighting caught in her eyes, transforming them into pools of concern that seemed to reflect both empathy and a sharpened intelligence. The air between them was charged, a mixture of expectation and unspoken tension that neither dared to break just yet.

“Travis, talk to me,” she said, her voice a precise blend of command and compassion. “What’s really going on with the company?”

Travis hesitated, his fingers absently smoothing the edge of his napkin as if he could iron out the tangles of stress that wrapped around him. His blue eyes lifted, locking with hers, steady but betraying the strain he fought to suppress. “It’s the stocks,” he admitted, the words heavy and deliberate. “They’ve been… unpredictable.”