Marcela met his glare head-on, her nerves momentarily betraying her as her fingers fidgeted with the strap of her purse. Still, she steadied herself quickly, summoning her practised confidence. “I swear, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said earnestly, her voice calm but firm. “When you make your findings, you’ll see it wasn’t me.”
Diego’s expression didn’t soften. His dark eyes bore into hers, silently assessing her, the tension between them palpable. He didn’t trust her, that much was clear, but for now, he decided to let it slide. He straightened, slipping his hands into his pockets as he regarded her with a mix of skepticism and irritation.
“Fine,” he said curtly, though the edge in his tone made it clear he wasn’t convinced. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer
