His 181St Second (Laverne and Marina) novel Chapter 75

**Winds Carry Lost Promises by Asa Holt Vale**

**Chapter 75**

In an instant, Daron’s voice cut through the air, cold and commanding.

“Get out,” he ordered sharply.

It was a rare occasion when Daron displayed such intense fury, and the atmosphere in the room shifted palpably.

Marina felt a jolt of surprise at his tone, but she quickly composed herself and sprang from the couch, acutely aware that lingering would be a mistake. This was a moment meant for Daron and his employee, and she had no business intruding on that exchange.

As she made her way to the door, her gaze met that of the employee who had just faced Daron’s wrath. In his eyes, she noticed a glimmer of sadness, a silent plea for understanding.

Marina pressed her lips together, a pang of empathy rising within her. She wished she could offer some comfort, yet she knew she was powerless to intervene.

As she brushed past Daron, he reached out, his fingers wrapping around her arm with an unexpected intensity.

Marina froze, and in that fleeting moment, a flicker of understanding ignited in the employee’s eyes. He hurriedly exited, casting a grateful glance back at her as he passed.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving only Marina and Daron in the expansive, sunlit office that felt suddenly smaller.

Daron’s gaze fell to the floor, and he shot her a dismissive look before turning towards his desk, his posture rigid.

Marina took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, and followed him, determined to remain composed.

As he sank into his chair, she rushed to his side, presenting the meticulously prepared documents she had toiled over all night.

“Mr. Zamora, if you could spare a moment to review the detailed plan and proposal I’ve crafted before making any decisions, I would greatly appreciate it,” Marina implored, her voice steady yet laced with urgency.

Daron glanced down at the papers she offered, his expression inscrutable, revealing nothing of his thoughts.

“We discussed this yesterday. Why revisit it today?” he replied, his tone flat.

He picked up a different stack of papers from his desk, completely ignoring her proposal.

Marina felt a momentary hesitation, but she quickly regained her composure, calmly retracting the documents.

“If you’re pressed for time, Mr. Zamora, I can provide a brief overview,” she suggested, her voice unwavering.

“I have devised a strategy that could expedite Zamora Group’s foothold in Sicester,” she continued, her confidence beginning to swell.

Daron’s hand faltered for just a second as he flipped through the papers, then resumed his perusal, seemingly unfazed.

Yet Marina noticed that tiny reaction, and it emboldened her. She pressed on, her voice steady and assured.

“Mr. Zamora, you already possess a significant share of Ross Group. We no longer need to regard them merely as a stepping stone; we can actually acquire them.”

Finally, Daron’s interest piqued. He set down the papers, looking up at her with a mixture of skepticism and intrigue.

“Ms. Finley, are you genuinely suggesting that Zamora Group should absorb Ross Group?” he questioned, his lips curling into a faint, almost sardonic smile.

The implications of such a move were weighty, and Daron clearly harbored doubts about the feasibility of her plan.

Marina nodded earnestly.

“Without a doubt. This represents a pivotal opportunity for Zamora Group to outpace our competitors. With my involvement, the transition will be seamless,” she asserted, her almond-shaped eyes radiating sincerity, devoid of any trace of doubt.

Daron remained silent for a moment, his expression inscrutable. He reached into the drawer beside him, retrieving a pack of cigarettes, and lit one with a practiced flick of his wrist.

The slender cigarette dangled between his long fingers as he inhaled slowly, the ember glowing brightly before dimming with each drag.

Gray smoke curled lazily around them, obscuring the emotions that flickered in his eyes.

Marina stood resolutely before the desk, her heart racing as she awaited his response.

Confidence coursed through her veins; she was certain this time Daron wouldn’t find a way to dismiss her proposal.

“Ms. Finley, how can you assure me that you won’t go easy on Ross Group? After all…” Daron’s voice trailed off, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.

Marina understood precisely what he was insinuating. Meeting his gaze, she remained calm and composed, her eyes locking onto his deep, inscrutable ones veiled by the drifting smoke.

Yet, she struggled to find anything truly convincing to sway Daron.

Her relationship with Lavern had left her burdened with emotional baggage that clung to her like a shadow, leaving her feeling lost.

“Mr. Zamora, the only way I can prove my worth is through my actions,” Marina stated, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Daron remained unresponsive, his focus locked onto the documents, completely disregarding her presence, his expression a mask of indifference.

In that moment, Marina felt a wave of helplessness wash over her, as if all her efforts were futile.

“I’ll leave you to your work, Mr. Zamora,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

As she walked out of the office, she cast a glance back at Daron, but he remained fixated on his papers, signaling his disinterest in her departure.

Disappointment flickered in her eyes, but she had no choice but to leave, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Once the door clicked shut, a soft sigh escaped Marina’s lips as she made her way toward the elevator, pressing the down button.

After two grueling days filled with setbacks, she felt utterly drained. Her shoulders sagged as she awaited the elevator, feeling as if she lacked the strength to continue.

The air conditioning at Zamora Group was set to a chilling level, and the cold seeped into her very bones. She sniffled, attempting to shake off the chill.

As fate would have it, Garret happened to pass by and noticed Marina stepping into the elevator, her demeanor so downtrodden, shoulders hunched as if she were on the brink of tears.

He halted, momentarily stunned, before quickly pushing open Daron’s office door.

“Daron, what the hell did you do?” Garret demanded, his voice laced with concern.

Daron looked up, his eyes cold and piercing.

“You’d better have something significant to say,” Daron replied, his tone sharp.

Garret could sense the dangerous energy radiating from Daron, prompting him to lower his voice.

“I just saw Ms. Finley crying out there,” he said, his concern palpable.