Chapter 19 - The Final Exit
Julian dropped to his knees right there on the plush, imported Persian rug of the Mandarin Oriental dining suite, a pathetic sound escaping his throat—half gasp, half sob. Passersby in the hallway craned their necks to stare at the fallen prince groveling before the woman he had so casually discarded just months prior.
"Just... just one million, Elena," Julian wept, pressing his forehead against the hem of my trousers—a gesture I casually and coldly stepped back to avoid. "Just enough to clear my debts and start over in a small apartment. I’ll sign whatever non-compete you want. I’ll disappear. Just... please don't let them throw me in federal prison for the tax discrepancies the forensic auditors found."
I looked down at him, my expression utterly serene. "The forensic audit wasn't my doing, Julian. That was the federal investigators doing their jobs after unearthing the fraudulent shell companies you set up to embezzle from the shipping terminals. If you're going to prison, you can thank your own greed, not me." I turned my gaze toward the security guards. "Escort these two off the premises immediately. If they attempt to approach me, my offices, or my home again, file an immediate restraining order for harassment."
"Yes, Madam CEO," the lead guard barked, grabbing Julian firmly by the tailored—yet now filthy—lapel of his jacket and hauling him to his feet like a sack of garbage. Clara screamed obscenities, thrashing wildly as she was dragged backward out the heavy oak doors, her voice echoing down the opulent hallway until the heavy latch clicked shut, sealing them out of my world forever.
Director Harrison let out a low, appreciative whistle, leaning back in his chair with a broad grin. "Remind me never to cross you in a board meeting, Mrs. Vance. That was absolute poetry."
May you like
"It was just housekeeping, Director," I replied, retaking my seat and smoothing my skirt as if nothing had happened at all. "Now, shall we finalize the European logistics integration terms?"
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