Gianna wasn't one to gloat over her designs, or feel smug over her designing prowess, but beholding Daphne's face as the latter went through her designs elicited the smug feeling from her, the sensation unfurling warm and slow inside her chest.
And observing the anger and frustration slip out of the latter's shoulders and body with every look at each design on paper, made her gloat inwardly, made her spine lengthen as she relaxed further into her chair; made her assured of her place in this company.
Esme or not, foolish secretary or not, she wouldn't be leaving this place for a while. Unless she wanted to.
"What do you think, Daphne? Do you still want her gone?" Arthur asked, tone light but watching the woman closely.
Daphne took a while answering the question, as a matter of fact she didn't until she was done analyzing the drawings before her. Her brows softened, her fingers slowed on the pages, her jaw unclenching one hesitant millimeter at a time.
