Manson reclined in his chair, one arm slung carelessly over the armrest, his half-lidded gaze carrying an effortless air of authority.
"So," he drawled, "how were the meetings?"
Hazel tossed her hair as she closed the distance, confidence trailing her like a fine perfume.
"Very well," she said. "I secured over fifty TikTok influencers willing to promote Guided Hearts. I personally held video meetings with thirty of them—for quality control, of course. It has to appear seamless… natural. That's what the public responds to."
Manson inclined his head in a measured nod as she took her seat.
"Mm. A sound marketing strategy. The others are performing well enough, but introducing a few 'authentic' faces would do no harm."
Her gaze shifted, sharp and sudden.
"Fiona. Yesterday, did you go yourself or send one of your guards?"
A brief pause.
"I went," he said simply.
Hazel blinked. Once. Twice.
"…Huh?"
