Aletha stood on the sidewalk outside Soho House, the biting Manhattan wind piercing her thin trench coat. She pulled the collar tighter against her chest.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket.
She pulled out her phone. It was an urgent call from the private lawyer for the Glenn family trust.
“Mrs. Glenn, I have sent you a supplemental document to your prenuptial agreement via email. According to Clause 4B, this specific supplement requires you to print it out in person and submit it to the CEO for signature immediately. This is urgent; you must act tomorrow,” the lawyer stated decisively.
Aletha swallowed the intense humiliation that was stuck in her throat.
"I see."
The next morning, she hailed a taxi and told the driver to go to the Glenn Industries headquarters in Midtown.
She pushed open the heavy revolving glass door and strode toward the huge marble reception desk in the center of the lobby.
“I want to go to the top floor,” Aletha said.
The receptionist looked up from the screen, her polite smile completely perfunctory. “Good morning, Mrs. Glenn,” she said, her tone disciplined yet tinged with a barely perceptible hint of disdain. “I’m sorry, Mr. Glenn is currently very busy. He has given strict instructions not to be disturbed by anyone. I’m afraid I cannot let you up without his direct confirmation.”
Aletha reached into her bag and pulled out her signature black elevator card, which identified her. She swiped it on the security turnstile.
A blinding red light flashed on the scanner. A loud beep of mechanical malfunction echoed through the room.
"Access denied. Card frozen," the machine announced.
Several senior executives walking through the lobby stopped and turned around, casting curious and judgmental glances at the woman who had caused a commotion at the access control.
Aletha bit her cheek hard, tasting the blood. She lowered her head and, as a group of managers swiped their cards to enter, quickly slipped into a regular employee elevator.
The elevator stopped on the fiftieth floor, the highest public access floor. Aletha stepped out, avoiding the patrolling security guards, pushed open the heavy fire door, and entered the emergency stairwell. Her high heels clicked sharply on the concrete floor as she climbed the remaining two floors, her breathing rapid but controlled. She pushed open the heavy door leading to the fifty-second floor and strode towards the CEO's office.
The heavy double mahogany doors were slightly ajar. A warm ray of light fell onto the carpet.
Aletha took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and felt as if her heart had shattered into a thousand pieces.
Dinah was sitting on the edge of Kristopher's huge mahogany desk, playfully swinging her legs.
Kristopher stood between her knees. He leaned down and gently wiped a smear of latte foam from the corner of Dinah's mouth with his thumb.
The sound of the door opening froze them both. Kristopher looked up. The tenderness in his eyes instantly transformed into a chilling, icy rage.
Dinah took a soft breath, slid off the table, and hid behind Kristopher's broad back.
Aletha forced her legs forward. Each step felt like walking on broken glass. She placed the legal folder on the table.
“The trust lawyer needs you to sign this document immediately. I’ll take it and leave. I won’t stay a second longer,” Aletha said, her voice stiff and fragile.
Kristopher picked up the folder. He didn't even look at its contents. He slammed it into Aletha's face.
The sharp edge of the thick paper grazed Aletha's cheekbone. A thin, warm line of blood immediately seeped through her skin.
Kristopher took a large stride, closing the distance between them. He grabbed Aletha's chin, his fingers digging painfully into her jaw.
“Recognize your true identity as a stand-in,” he warned, his voice a vicious hiss. “You’re not even worth a hair on Dinah’s head. Stop making excuses to bother us.”
Aletha didn't blink. The absolute stillness in her eyes suddenly ignited a strange unease in Kristopher's chest.
He shoved her roughly, releasing her chin. He slammed his hand on the intercom button on his desk.
"Bring the security supervisor up now."
Seconds later, two burly security guards burst into the office. They grabbed Aletha from both sides, each gripping one of her arms with a tight, painful force.
Dinah spoke from behind her desk, her voice filled with feigned sympathy. “Kris, please don’t be so harsh. Perhaps Dr. Ward is just desperate for money.”
The security guards dragged Aletha backward. Her high heels screeched on the expensive carpet.
They dragged her into the elevator, through the crowded first-floor lobby in front of hundreds of employees, and then roughly threw her out through the front door.
Aletha stumbled and fell heavily onto the cold concrete pavement.
She sat there, gazing at the supplementary agreement fluttering in the wind. A tear finally slid down her cheek, landing on the back of her hand and shattering.
