Chapter 195: Chapter 195

Violet

The knock came the following morning on my door dragging me out of whatever shallow, restless sleep I had managed to fall into.

“Violet?”

I forced my eyes open, blinking against the light that filtered in through the curtains and the door creaked open before I could respond. My mother stepped in, her gaze immediately landing on me and noticed the laptop and scattered papers and sketches around me.

Her expression shifted instantly from mild curiosity to worry.

“Oh Goddess,” she murmured, crossing the room in quick steps. “Violet, did you sleep here the entire night?”

“I’m fine,” I said, my voice rough, my throat dry.

I straightened, ignoring the protest from my muscles, and reached for the laptop instinctively, my mind already racing ahead to the designs, to the revisions I had meant to finish.

My mother placed a hand on my shoulder, gently but firmly.

“No, you are not fine,” she said, her tone sharpening just enough to make me pause. “Look at you. Your face is pale, your eyes are red, and you have been overworking yourself for days now.”

“I had work,” I replied, already tapping the screen awake.

“And you still have a body,” she shot back. “You cannot keep treating yourself like this.”

The screen lit up, and my eyes immediately widened to notice that it was 8.30 am already.

“I told you to sleep properly,” my mother continued, her voice rising slightly. “At least come have breakfast first, then you can…”

“I missed the deadline,” I cut in, my pulse picking up as I attached the files to the mail. “I was supposed to send this at eight.”

“The world is not going to end if you are thirty minutes late.” she said, exasperatedly.

“It matters,” I muttered, hitting send before I could second-guess anything.

“At least eat something before you go,” she said, quieter now. “You cannot run on coffee and stubbornness.”

“I’ll grab something on the way,” I replied, already standing up.

“You say that every day,” she said, following me as I moved toward the bathroom. “And every day you come back just as exhausted, if not worse.”

I splashed cold water on my face, and looked at myself in the mirror, taking in the faint shadows under my eyes, the dullness in my expression.

I straightened, wiping my face and tying my hair back quickly before stepping out and pulling on my work clothes.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, picking up my bag.

My mother sighed, clearly unconvinced. “You keep saying that, Violet. I just hope you believe it too.”

I didn’t respond but just slipped my shoes on and drove like a madman to the office but by the time I reached the conference room, the meeting had already started.

I paused outside the glass door for a brief second, inhaling slowly before pushing it open.

The room was already full with everyone seated, laptops open, and Rhea’s presentation midway. Before I could open my mouth, Mirella did.

“How nice of you to join us,” she said sarcastically.

I walked in without responding, pulling out a chair and opening my laptop.

“We have all been here since eight,” she continued, her gaze fixed on me. “Meanwhile, you are still in vacation mode.”

“I sent the designs,” I said quietly.

“Late,” she snapped. “Which defeats the entire purpose of a deadline, does it not?”

I didn’t answer because there was no point.

Her lips curved slightly in a sneer. “It is interesting how someone with such… average skills manages to secure a place on a project like this, only to treat it so casually. But connections can only get you so far”

My fingers curled into fists under the table as a few people shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

“I assure you,” she continued, “talent is usually the requirement here, not proximity to the right people.”

I kept my gaze on the table, my jaw tightening as I forced myself to stay still.

“Or maybe,” she went on, “you were simply too busy enjoying your extended leave. Parties, weddings, drinks. It must be exhausting, all that socializing. No wonder you overslept.”

A flicker of heat rose in my chest, but I shoved it down, stomping on it brutally.

The door opened before she could say anything else.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Dane nodded at everyone as he stepped inside.

He nodded at the room, offering a quick smile. “Morning.”

His gaze moved across the table, stopping when it reached me and the smile faded slightly.

“Violet,” he said, his brows drawing together just a fraction. “You okay?”

I held his gaze for a second, aware of Mirella’s attention shifting sharply between us.

“Yes, just a headache,” I said simply.

He studied me for a moment then nodded. “All right.”

Mirella slid back into her seat though I caught the brief flicker of irritation that crossed her face.

“Since you’re here,” she said, turning back to me, “why don’t you present your work. Let us see what justified the delay.”

I stood, pulling up my designs on the screen, forcing my voice to remain steady as I began explaining the structure, the revisions, the reasoning behind each change.

As I spoke, I could feel Dane’s attention sharpen. He asked a few questions that told me he wasn’t just an enthusiast but really understood metals and mechanisms.

“It is strong,” he said finally, leaning back slightly. “The structure works. It is different.”

Mirella cleared her throat softly. “The weight distribution is still slightly off in the base. It could affect comfort.”

“It is a minor adjustment,” Dane replied, glancing at the screen again. “It can be ignored I guess.”

It was not even a dismissal, just a casual observation but I saw the way Mirella’s expression shifted for a fraction of a second before she masked it.

“I will revise it,” I said quickly, before anything else could be said. “She’s right, it can be improved.”

Dane nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Good. Then we are on track.”

The meeting continued for almost an hour after that as I sat back down, rubbing my temples and my dry eyes.

The sound of footsteps brought me back to the present and I looked up just in time to see Mirella’s hand reach for the doorknob.

Mirella was already by the door when I stood.

I hesitated for a second, then walked toward her.

“Mirella,” I called, my voice quieter now.

She paused, turning slightly, her expression guarded.

“I know I am still learning,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “And I know this project is important. I am not trying to undermine you or your authority.”

Her gaze sharpened slightly, as if she had not expected that.

“I just…” I continued, forcing myself to meet her eyes. “I want to do this right. And I would appreciate your guidance.”

For a brief second, something in her expression shifted. It was not warmth but something far less hostile, as if she was slightly appeased by me respecting her authority.

Before I could start hoping, it disappeared.

“You have to earn it,” she said simply, turned and walked away.

I exhaled slowly, and returned to work.