LAUREN'S POV
“Wait… so what are you saying now?” I asked, my voice carrying more disbelief than I intended. My mind struggled to process what the manager had just said, as though the words had been spoken in a foreign language I didn’t quite understand.
“Exactly what you heard,” the manager replied, her tone calm yet firm, as though this was a simple matter of business. “You’re being transferred to Italy to work for one of Hale Industries’ branches.”
For a moment, all I could do was stare at her, then let my gaze shift toward the men seated across from her, their expressions unreadable, their silence almost oppressive. It felt like they had delivered a verdict, one that they expected me to accept without question.
Italy.
Did she really expect me to leave everything behind, to cross an ocean just for a job I had barely started? My chest tightened at the thought, my pulse racing as a wave of resistance surged through me.
“Ma’am, with due respect… I don’t think that would be possible,” I finally said, my voice measured but my hands tightening into fists against my lap.
“And why is that?” she asked smoothly, leaning back in her chair, as though she had already anticipated my resistance and was prepared to dismantle it piece by piece.
“Why is that?” I repeated, my voice rising slightly, disbelief lacing every syllable. “Because my life is here. Everything I know, everyone I know, stays here in this country. You can’t just expect me to pack up my entire world and jump to another country especially for a job I only started today.”
The board members exchanged faint glances, their faces carefully neutral.
The manager didn’t flinch. Instead, she gave me a smile that wasn’t quite a smile. “Have you heard of people who’ve done it before? The people who love their jobs, who are committed to their work, who have vision? They move across states, across borders, across oceans because they understand what’s at stake. So why can’t you? Besides…” she added, her tone softening into something meant to sound reassuring, “it’s not as if we’re leaving you to fend for yourself. Your flight, your accommodation, all of that would be handled. Trust me.”
Her words sounded reasonable enough on the surface, but my chest burned with frustration. Did she really think logistics were the only thing keeping me from agreeing?
“Those aren’t the only reasons,” I said quietly, my voice trembling more than I wanted it to.
Her brows lifted slightly. “Oh? And what other reasons are there? Are you married? Do you have children you need to stay home and take care of?”
Her question hit me harder than any accusation could have. It pierced straight through me, dragging a wound wide open that I’d spent so long trying to stitch closed.
Children.
My throat constricted as I fought to control my expression, to keep the pain from showing, but the silence that followed was answer enough. She didn’t know. She couldn’t possibly know that once, I had the best child a mother could ever ask for. That I’d lost a piece of myself the day I lost her.
And still, she had asked.
My lips parted, but no words came. I could feel the weight of the board members’ gazes on me, though none of them dared speak. I hated how raw the question had left me, hated how my silence seemed to give her more power.
The manager leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing in the kind of way that told me she thought she had just won. “My point exactly,” she said firmly, as though my silence confirmed everything she needed to know.
I swallowed hard, anger, grief, and helplessness swirling together in my chest like a storm.


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