13

13
Arlene
“Morning, Miss Gomez!”
“Good to have you back!”
“God, you look so beautiful, ma’am.”
“We’re glad you’re back!”
Their voices echoed like a harmonious chorus as I strode through the hall, each word resonating with respect and awe. The staff, lined up on both sides of the entrance, bowed their heads slightly, their eyes filled with a mixture of relief and admiration.
It had been far too long since I walked these halls, and their genuine welcome stirred something within me—a sharp reminder of what was mine.
I could sense that many of these staff members were allies of Mirela. I’d waste no time weeding them out.
“Get anyone hired by Mirela fired today,” I whispered to Matilda.
“Yes, ma’am,” she replied briskly, falling into step behind me.
Matilda’s heels clicked against the marble floor in perfect sync with mine. Her voice was crisp and efficient as she rattled off updates about the company. “The skincare line’s new launch was delayed by a week due to supplier issues, but the sales team is working on it. As for the luxury bag collection, pre-orders have exceeded expectations...”
Her words became a blur as my eyes swept over the lobby. Polished floors gleamed, gold accents caught the light, and Mirela’s signature touches were everywhere. The faint scent of her preferred lavender and vanilla diffusers lingered in the air, and it made my stomach churn.
This was my company. It was time everyone remembered that.
We stepped into the elevator, the murmurs of the staff fading behind us. As the doors slid shut, Matilda continued, “Miss Sarah Lolthammer, the actress from Hawaii, has been contacted to be the brand ambassador. Mirela arranged it. She’s scheduled to arrive tomorrow to sign the contract.”
I stiffened. Sarah Lolthammer? Her name hit like a slap. Memories of tabloids flooded back—pictures of her draped on Cole’s arm, her smug smile, and the way he had looked at her. He had never looked at me like that.
“What did you just say?” My voice was sharp, the pitch higher than usual.
Matilda hesitated, a rare falter in her usual composure. “Miss Lolthammer... she’s set to be the—”
“Stop.” I held up a hand. “First, don’t refer to Mirela as my stepmother. Call her by her name.”
“Yes, ma’am. Mirela arranged it.”
I inhaled deeply, steadying the turmoil within. “Fine. Let Sarah come. But find another candidate as well. Someone new, someone at the start of their career. I want options.”
A subtle smile tugged at my lips. Rejecting Sarah wouldn’t just be professional; it would be personal.
Matilda’s brow furrowed slightly, but she nodded. “I’ll make it happen.”
The elevator dinged, opening to reveal my office. I took one step in and stopped cold. Mirela’s fingerprints were everywhere—gaudy floral arrangements, crystal paperweights, and that cloying lavender scent, stronger here than anywhere else.
“This office reeks of her,” I said icily.
Matilda flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Your return was sudden. I’ll have everything replaced immediately.”
“Do it now,” I snapped. “I won’t step foot in here until her stench is gone.”
As Matilda hurried to call the cleaning team, I turned back toward the elevator. “Where to next?”
“Your father’s company,” she replied. “The board meeting is scheduled for 10 a.m.”
I smirked. It’s time.

The car ride to my father’s company was uneventful, but my mind was far from quiet. I thought of Mirela and Daisy - of their schemes and their smug faces, unchecked in my absence. A slow-burning fury simmered in my chest, fueling my resolve.
The driver pulled up to the building, and I stepped out, my heels striking the pavement with a purposeful rhythm. The security guards opened the doors without hesitation, their expressions betraying mild surprise at my sudden arrival.
The moment I entered the boardroom, the effect was instantaneous. Conversations halted mid-sentence. Heads turned, and eyes widened with shock.
Mirela sat at the head of the table, Daisy to her right, flanked by several board members. They froze, caught red-handed in whatever scheme they were concocting.
“I see we’re having a secret meeting,” I said, sarcasm dripping from every word. My gaze locked onto Mirela’s as I strode forward. “Should I ask why I wasn’t informed?”
Mirela recovered quickly, her face hardening. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, irritation sharpening her tone.
I scoffed, letting my contempt show. “You’re not seriously asking me that, are you? This is my company.”
Mine. The word rolled off my tongue with satisfying finality.
Her jaw tightened, and anger flushed her cheeks. “What do you mean?”
Before I could answer, the doors swung open again, and my father walked in. His presence commanded instant attention, and the room collectively stood in respect.
“She means,” he said calmly, his voice carrying undeniable authority, “that Arlene is the new president of this company.”
A ripple of shock spread through the room. Mirela’s face turned ghostly pale, her carefully maintained facade cracking. Daisy’s mouth hung open as her gaze darted between me and my father.
“You’re joking,” Mirela said, her voice trembling with barely contained fury.
My father’s expression remained steady. “It’s time for our daughter to take charge. You’ve done enough, Mirela.”
Triumph surged through me, and I allowed a small smile. “You heard him. Don’t you think it’s time to step aside?” My tone was sweet but laced with venom.
Mirela’s composure shattered. “What did you do?” she hissed, her voice rising.
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Nothing out of place. Just reclaiming what’s mine.”
Uneasy glances passed among the board members. The shift in power dynamics left them visibly unsettled, but none dared to speak. Mirela glared at me, her hatred palpable, yet she couldn’t challenge my father’s decision.
Daisy finally found her voice, trembling as she spoke. “But… we had plans in place—”
“Those plans,” I interrupted smoothly, “are no longer relevant. As of today, I’m in charge, and I intend to make some changes.”
Mirela shot to her feet, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. “What changes?” she spat.
I stepped closer, meeting her glare head-on. “Dad was right. You’ve done enough. Your hard work is appreciated, but it’s time for you to step down as vice-chairman.”
The tension in the room was electric. Mirela’s shock was genuine, her rage barely concealed.
“What?” she sputtered, disbelief etched across her face.