She sat back, mind clearly reeling, gears spinning at a million miles an hour, processing new data like a stock algorithm on Red Bull.
I allowed myself a private smirk, imagining Kayla as a slightly less competent Elon Musk if he were trapped in high school, and Lea like Zendaya narrating the chaos with a side-eye sharp enough to draw blood.
And yes—I loved every second of it.
Kayla cleared her throat, the sound thin and strangely fragile, like guilt wearing heels. "For what it's worth... I did feel guilty. I do feel guilty. I saw what you were capable of and I—" She paused, breath trembling in her chest. "I took advantage. And I'm sorry. Really sorry."
"Sorry enough to split your salary for the past year?"Lea's voice arrived lacquered in saccharine venom, a poisonous confection wrapped in politeness. "Since you built your entire career on his work?"
"Lea," I said, my voice firm, cutting through her like a gavel through glass. "Enough."
