Year Five The Perfect Goodbye Plan novel Chapter 127

“Mr. Sanderson, is there something I can help you with?”

Silvia answered the call, her tone polite and composed.

Finn, sitting beside her, immediately quieted down. The easygoing look on his face vanished, replaced by a seriousness that made his features seem even sharper.

“Silvia, what exactly is going on between you and Shipley?” Sanderson’s voice sounded tired, with an undercurrent of irritation.

He really hadn’t expected that this cross-city partnership—now practically finalized with The Ashford Group—would be complicated by Shipley, who kept stirring up trouble and reaching out to him.

Sanderson was a busy man, with more than just this project on his plate.

Sensing his impatience, Silvia’s brows drew together in a subtle frown.

“I’m currently working at The Ashford Group,” she replied, her voice steady and sincere.

She had no idea what Shipley might have said to Sanderson. The thought alone made her expression darken in frustration. Shipley always seemed to find a way to make her life difficult—was he determined to meddle in every aspect of her life?

“Silvia, you know I value your abilities—not Shipley’s,” Sanderson said firmly, his tone grave.

Silvia pressed her lips together, her gaze dropping to the floor as she curled her hand into a fist at her side.

“I understand.” Her voice was gentle, but carried conviction. “You can trust me, Mr. Sanderson. I’ll take care of it.”

After hanging up, Silvia stared at her phone. Her fingertip hovered over the keypad for a long moment, but she couldn’t bring herself to dial.

A chill seemed to settle over her, her mood growing darker by the second.

Finn noticed right away. His concern was obvious as he asked, “What’s wrong? Did something happen with the project?”

He was silent for a moment, then replied, “You belong to me. If Mr. Sanderson works with you, he’s working with me. Isn’t that obvious?”

Shipley’s tone was as soft as ever, but there was a possessiveness beneath it that made Silvia’s skin crawl.

He felt like a snake, coiled tight around her, refusing to let her go.

“Shipley, you made it clear you didn’t want me around, so I left. Now you’re the one asking me to come back. Don’t you think that’s pathetic?”

She honestly didn’t know what else to say.

She had walked away. But Shipley had stayed put, demanding that she return—as if he’d drawn a circle around her, refusing to let her exist outside his reach.

Her voice dripped with sarcasm, the word “pathetic” slicing through any remaining politeness.