Chapter 75

"Essential oil?" Dominic paused, his brow furrowing. "Didn't we just deliver a fresh batch this morning? Are you telling me it's insufficient?"

"Mr. Reeves, the quality of that batch is unacceptable. We can't use it in production!"

"Unacceptable?" Dominic's voice sharpened as he paced the length of the living room, agitation tightening his shoulders. "We sourced it directly from DR Holdings. Are you implying the issue lies with us?"

The factory manager exhaled sharply. "With all due respect, my team has been working around the clock to meet the surge in orders. Every step of the process was followed precisely—our automated systems don't make mistakes. The problem has to be with the raw materials. You should come inspect it yourself."

Dominic's jaw clenched. Delays meant penalties, and penalties meant losses. "Fine. I'll be there in twenty."

As he ended the call, Vanessa emerged from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Who calls at this hour?" she mumbled, her silk pajamas rumpled.

Dominic barely glanced at her as he shrugged into his coat. "Get dressed. You're coming with me."

"Me?" Vanessa blinked, suddenly awake. "Where?"

"The factory. The essential oil batch is defective."

Despite her protests, Dominic practically dragged her into the car. The factory loomed ahead, its floodlights casting harsh shadows. The manager rushed forward the moment they stepped inside.

"Mr. Reeves, thank God you're here. See for yourself."

A crate of essential oil sat in the corner. Dominic snatched a vial, uncapped it, and inhaled. "It smells normal."

The manager handed him a finished product. "Now try this."

Dominic recoiled as the acrid scent burned his throat. He coughed, waving a hand in front of his face. "What the hell? Was it diluted incorrectly?"

"Our machines are calibrated to perfection. The fault lies in the oil itself." The manager hesitated. "Are you certain DR Holdings produced this batch?"

Dominic's gaze flicked to Vanessa, who had been lingering silently.

She stiffened under their scrutiny. "What? We followed the same formula as last time. If there's an error, it's in the instructions—not my work."

A beat of silence.

Then realization dawned on her face.

The formula was hers.

And if the formula was flawed... the blame fell squarely on her.