CHAPTER 89 In His Own Trap

　　Camila leaned forward, her dark hair falling like a shadow across the mahogany table that separated them. The ambient light of the restaurant caught in her eyes, turning them into pools of concern.

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

　　Travis hesitated, his fingers absently smoothing the edge of his napkin. He looked up, meeting her gaze with a steadiness that belied the tension in his jaw. "It's the stocks," he admitted. "They've been... unpredictable."

　　"Unpredictable how?" Camila pressed, her brain already ticking through potential solutions. Her sassy attitude softened around the edges, replaced by an earnest desire to help.

　　"Fluctuating more than usual," Travis explained, his blue eyes flickering with a rare hint of vulnerability. "It's got the board on edge."