The conference room was so silent that a pin dropping to the floor would have echoed like a gunshot.
Adrian trembled all over, his face shifting from deathly ashen to a dark, mottled red.
"You're L? That's impossible. You're just…" Adrian stammered.
"Just a stupid woman who cooks for you and cleans up after you?" I cut him off, my gaze utterly devoid of warmth. "Adrian, were you blind, or just that stupid? Over the past five years, every award-winning design Griffin Group bragged about came from my hands. Did you honestly think your useless design team was capable of producing any of that?"
Adrian staggered back a step and slammed into the corner of the table.
His memories began to unravel.
The countless nights he had seen my silhouette bent over drafts in the study. The blueprints he never understood, yet somehow always won the bids.
The truth had been there all along.
I pulled a document from the folder and slapped it onto the conference table.
"You lost. Own it. Sign, Adrian."
It was a divorce agreement.
Adrian stared at the papers, then suddenly lunged forward like a madman and dropped to his knees in front of me.
He grabbed my hands, tears and mucus running down his face in humiliating streams.
"Audrey! I was wrong! I didn't know you were this capable. I love you, I swear! Jasmine meant nothing. It was all for show. Marcus pushed her on me. I never liked her! Please, don't divorce me. Griffin Group can't survive without you!"
The man who had strutted in like a king moments ago now groveled at my feet like a stray begging for scraps.
Jasmine stood off to the side, her face drained of color as she tried to slip away unnoticed.
"Stop." My voice was cold as ice.
Jasmine froze mid-step, too afraid to move.
"Ms. Jensen, as Adrian's so-called personal assistant, you're the perfect witness for this divorce."
I took out the remote and pressed play.
The large screen flickered to life. Surveillance footage from the campsite appeared.
Then photos of Adrian and Jasmine kissing inside a car.
And finally, an audio recording from one of Adrian's business dinners.
"My wife's useless. Can't do anything except cook. If she weren't so obedient, I'd have dumped her already."
Adrian's voice rang out with unmistakable clarity.
The investors looked at Adrian with open contempt.
"Mr. Griffin, I didn't expect this from you."
"If your character is questionable, our partnership has to be reconsidered."
"Ms. Lawson, you have our full support."
Adrian's face turned ashen.
He knew that if he refused to sign today, Griffin Group was finished.
They would lose the project and likely be blacklisted by the entire industry.
Under the weight of every gaze in the room, Adrian picked up the pen with trembling fingers.
Each stroke felt as if it carved into his own flesh.
In addition to walking away with nothing, he had to transfer thirty percent of Griffin Group's shares to me as compensation for emotional damages.
When he finished signing, Adrian collapsed into the chair, limp and hollow, like a dog with its spine ripped out.
I gathered the agreement and rose to my feet.
"That concludes today's meeting."
When I stepped out of the conference room, the sunlight outside was dazzling and brilliant.
I took a long, steady breath.
The air no longer carried that sickening stench of hypocrisy.
For the first time in years, it felt good.
