Lydia's Desperation

"I'll get you the proof you need. It's the least I can do." Henry's voice faltered, and for a brief moment, the mask of composure slipped, revealing a man burdened by guilt. "I should have protected her better back then. I failed her. But I won't fail her again—not before I die."

Arthur studied Henry's face, his own emotions a tangled mess. He didn't understand the bond Henry and Lydia shared. It was complicated, elusive, like smoke slipping through his fingers. It gnawed at him, the unease twisting into something dangerously close to jealousy.

"Show me what you're worth, Bassinger," Arthur said, his tone cold and final as he rose from his seat. Without waiting for a response, he strode toward the door, his coat trailing behind him.

As he stepped into the corridor, the weight of the conversation pressed heavily on him. He was about to summon his driver when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered it swiftly, not bothering to check the caller ID.