I dialed Cody's number, and he answered almost immediately:
"Ella, what's going on? It's time, and you're nowhere to be seen, and you won't pick up your phone!"
His voice was impatient.
I put the call on speaker and continued to do my makeup in front of the mirror. This afternoon, the company was hosting its annual Thanksgiving event. I might not need a man, but I was determined to reclaim the company.
After letting Cody vent for a while, I stated plainly:
"Two things. First, Weston cheated on me, and I'm filing for divorce."
"Second, find a reason to cancel his order plans for next year. I'm taking back the company."
Cody and I are twins, but our parents divorced when we were young. Cody went abroad with our dad, so while we kept in touch, we couldn't see each other often.
I took my mother's last name, but she soon remarried. Being the stepdaughter made my already strong character even more resilient.
I stopped talking about my original family. Even after marrying Weston, I never mentioned Cody.
In the early days of our startup, I worked tirelessly day and night. I wanted to prove myself, and through hard work, I landed a major contract that not only helped our company survive rough patches but also propelled us forward.
It was by chance that I later discovered it was Cody’s department that managed the company awarding us this contract.
But to me, I earned it through my own efforts; there was no need to explain all the details to Weston.
Little did I know this would someday become my leverage against him.
The line was silent for a while, but I knew it was Cody’s quiet anger. He always felt guilty toward me and ensured our company received plenty of orders each year.
Concerned he might dwell on it too much, I softened my tone and said:
"Brother, please find me a good lawyer. I want Weston to leave empty-handed."
"As for everything else, let me handle it. If I can't manage, then you can step in, alright?"
Cody’s reply came after a moment of heavy reflection:
"Understood. I’ll send you the details later."
Having gathered everything, I drove to the office building.
There were many new faces at the company, and none of the familiar old employees were around.
Suppressing my doubts, I headed straight for the office next to Weston’s.
A woman with long hair suddenly blocked my way with an arrogant air, looking me over as she asked:
"Are you looking for Veronica? She's out with Mr. Bryant. If you have business, you'll need to book an appointment with her in advance."
I raised an eyebrow and pointed toward what used to be my office, asking:
"So where's Ella Bryant's office now?"
The woman let out a dismissive laugh:
"That old woman isn't here anymore, so why should she hog an office? Mr. Bryant isn't around, so I'm calling the shots in the office now."
