Chapter 87 Bitch

Amanda paced the length of the bedroom, her silk robe barely tied as she wrestled with the emotions swirling inside her. The sharp angles of Vicktor’s jaw were tense as he stood near the window, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. The weight of the conversation he had just finished seemed to linger in the room like a storm cloud. “What’s happening?” Amanda finally asked, her voice breaking through the suffocating silence. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to mask the vulnerability that threatened to overwhelm her.