Adelle Montessori set down her landline, again infuriated with how her husband’s divorce lawyer chose to play the game she intended to win. Taking a calming breath and reminding herself she was sitting behind her office desk – her domain – she exhaled to look up as her glass office door opened. ‘The… freelancer has finished packing up his equipment,’ her assistant, showing that frightened glint in her eyes Adelle had grown to disdain, shared. ‘He’s waiting outside.’ ‘Well, show him in,’ she instructed, before rising off of her leather chair. Adelle was a slender, yet curved, African woman in…

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