[Miss Sanger, we regret to inform you that your application for the Euro-American Architectural Design Awards has been rejected as it does not meet the competition's eligibility requirements. We look forward to seeing you at a future competition.]
The message was from The Euro-American Architectural Design Awards Organizing Committee.
Victoria stared at the message.
Doesn't meet the requirements?
How was that possible? The entry requirements for the awards weren't that strict; a Level 2 Architect License was sufficient, and she had a Level 1. There was no reason for her to be rejected.
Unless someone did it on purpose.
Victoria's heart skipped a beat. Could it be Elias? Did he find out she applied and had someone block her application?
Suddenly, her phone rang, pulling her from her thoughts.
Victoria looked down.
The name 'Genevieve' flashed on the screen.
The moment she answered, Genevieve's voice came through the line.
"Victoria," she said, "we need to talk. Let's meet."
-
Night fell over The Imperial Crest Estates.
As soon as Elias walked in, Anne came out to greet him, thinking it was Victoria. When she saw him, she froze for a second, blurting out, "Sir, what are you doing home?"
"This is my house. Am I not allowed to come home?" Elias's cold voice was laced with displeasure.
"No, that's not it." Anne rushed forward to take Elias's coat, asking timidly, "Sir, you probably haven't had dinner yet, have you? What would you like? I'll go prepare it..."
Elias slipped on his house shoes and walked into the living room, his eyes scanning the space. He cut her off, "Where is she?"
"She?"
It took Anne a moment to realize who he was asking about. "Sir, ma'am isn't back yet."
Elias frowned.
It was already seven-thirty, and she wasn't home?
"Is she always this late?"
Anne was puzzled. In the two years they'd been married, Elias rarely came to The Imperial Crest Estates, and when he did, it was usually just to shower and sleep. He had never once asked about Victoria.
Why was he so interested all of a sudden?
Not dwelling on it, Anne answered honestly, "Ma'am gets off work at five-thirty and is usually home around six. She must be working overtime tonight."
Working overtime?
The photo flashed in Elias's mind, and his expression darkened.

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