The Jilted Fiancée's Spectacular Corporate Revenge

ice, the final Hudson Yards contract clutched tight in her hand.

apped back to computer screens. Eyes darted away. A cold knot formed in her stomach, a feeling

e floor. Brad's office was at the end, a glass box with a view of the city. His assistant's desk

ding on the plastic. One was Maya's usual oat milk latte. The other

breath

ienna was a client. A friend of th

omach tightened, a phy

denly feeling childish and naive. Today was the day they were supposed to go to City Hall

oor. It swung op

ad always found grating, drifted out. It wasn'

ze on the door.

ockings, discarded like a snake's shed skin. A few feet away lay a man

ice. The sounds of the office outside-the ringing

nd acidic. She swallowed it down, the meta

n. She wouldn't

sed, she shoved the door fully open. The h

ter insid

ce. She was wearing his custom Tom Ford bathrobe, the dark silk gaping

le spread across her face. She deliberately reached up and tugged the lapel of the robe furth

f his shirt. He looked up, his eyes widening as they met

, before it was quickly masked by a familiar wave o

aring his throat. "This

ctable, so insulting

pain a welcome anchor in the swirling vortex of sickness an

ord was flat, devoid of

It was a clear, unmistakable claim. She looked at Chloe,

was like swatting away a fly. Sie

d measured. She slapped the leather-bound contract down on the poli

ively pulling his arm a

. It was the voice she used with difficult clients, not the man she was supposed

as desperate to get her out of the room, to sweep this ugliness

uncapped it, and scribbled his name on the s

ged on something that made her blood run cold. Section 12-the restrictive covenant. The clause that was supposed to protect her posit

Someone else had been in this contract. Someone had deliberately erased her safeguard. The be

the mask of professionalism holding firm even

ard her, attempting a weak, placating smile. "There. All d

r fingers brushing his. His skin was wa

ng," she said, her voice cold and clear. "The Windsor kno

something, but Chloe's gaze, sharp and glacial, s

ked out of the office, pulling

his voice laced with a despera

past the now-silent cubicles and averted eye

fore the tremors started. She shoved the door open, fumbled w

t her ribs, a frantic, trapped bird. Red-hot tears burned behind he

saw the ghost of a fifteen-year-old girl who had been told her foster f

lf then, and she swore it to herself n

plashed it on her face, again and again, washing away the

aking. The roaring i

with precision. She found the calendar appoin

ypted note. She typed a titl

d unlocked the door. As she stepped back into the hallway, her eyes were