Chapter 98
Serena
Wesley blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
Something inside me snapped. The fear, the shame, the three years of being treated like I was lucky to breathe the same air as him—it all combusted into pure, white-hot rage.
"How much does my company owe you?" The words came out sharp enough to cut.
I took a step forward, watching his smug expression flicker with uncertainty. Behind me, I could feel my team's panic rising like a wave about to break. Let them panic. Let everyone in this room see what happened when you cornered someone who'd already lost everything that mattered.
"Because here's the thing, Wesley—I'm not broke." I let the words hang in the air, savoring the confusion that crossed his face. "In fact, I probably have more money on me right now than you've earned in the last ten years."
His jaw tightened. "Serena—"
"Oh wait, I forgot." I snapped my fingers in mock realization. "You don't actually earn money, do you? You live off the pathetic monthly allowance your uncle gives you like a good little trust fund baby. So let's be generous and add that in." I tilted my head, pretending to calculate. "That might bring you up to, what—a tenth of what I'm worth?"
The room went deadly silent.
Wesley's face flushed crimson, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Five hundred thousand!" he snarled. "With interest and fees, you owe me one million dollars! And since you're so fucking rich, you've got sixty seconds to prove it—or we start smashing everything in this dump."
The words echoed through the office like a death sentence. I heard someone behind me gasp. Felt the collective hope drain from the room as my employees did the mental math and came up short. Vanessa's smile turned predatory, her eyes locked on me like a cat watching a mouse realize it's trapped. The men in black suits shifted their weight, hands tightening around their baseball bats.
I let the silence stretch. Let them all think I was cornered.
Then I laughed.
"Is that all?" I asked, genuine amusement coloring my voice. "One million? That's what you brought twelve thugs and a dramatic entrance for?"
"Boss—" one of my employees called out, his voice wavering with worry and confusion.
"I'll give you two million," I said flatly.
The office exploded into shocked murmurs. Wesley's mouth fell open. Vanessa actually took a step back, her carefully constructed superiority cracking at the edges. Even the hired muscle looked uncertain, glancing at each other like they weren't sure what script they were supposed to be following anymore.
"What did you just—" Wesley started.
"Are you deaf?" I cut him off, my voice rising. "I said I'll transfer you two million dollars. Right now. Today. Is that clear enough for you, or do I need to use smaller words?"
I pulled out my phone, unlocking it with deliberate slowness while every eye in the room tracked my movements. "The extra million is a parting gift. Call it... compensation for services rendered." I looked up at Wesley, letting him see the contempt in my eyes. "Three years of your time. Three years of your youth, wasted on me. It's only fair I pay you for it."
The implication hung in the air like smoke. Not that I'd wasted my time on him—that he'd wasted his time on me. That I'd been the one using him, not the other way around. That whatever we'd had, whatever he'd thought we were, had been nothing more than a transaction I'd finally decided to close.
Wesley's face went from red to white. "You can't—that's not—"
"Oh, but there's more." I turned to Vanessa, who was staring at me like I'd grown a second head. "A portion of that extra million? That's for you, sweetheart."
I moved closer, close enough to see her pupils dilate with something that might have been fear or fury or both. "Three years," I said softly, letting each word land like a blade. "Three years, and you never made it past 'mistress.' The great Vanessa Holland—heiress to a media empire—reduced to sneaking around like some common homewrecker." I tilted my head, my smile sharp and cold. "It must have been so hard for you. All that breeding, all that family pride, and you still had to settle for scraps from another woman's table. How humiliating."
"You—" Vanessa's voice cracked with rage.
"And now?" I continued, not letting her finish. "Now I'm generous enough to hand him over, and you're stuck with this waste of space. My condolences, really. God only knows how long you'll have to put up with him before you realize what a mistake you've made."
Vanessa's mouth opened and closed soundlessly.
"Because I," I continued, my voice dropping to something intimate and cutting, "have moved on to better things. Better men. Better opportunities. Better everything." I gestured around the shabby office that would soon be something magnificent. "This company? It's just the beginning. So consider that two million my way of saying thank you for taking him off my hands. God knows I should have done it years ago."
Wesley's face twisted with rage and humiliation, but before he could form words, I'd already opened my banking app. Three taps. Account selection. Amount: $2,000,000.00. Recipient: Wesley Lawson.
Send.
The confirmation screen flashed green.
Then, cutting through the stunned silence like a bell, Wesley's phone erupted with the cheerful chime of an incoming payment notification. Loud enough for everyone to hear. Loud enough to be unmistakable.
"Transaction received: $2,000,000.00. Payment note: Breakup compensation."
The automated voice was female, pleasant, and absolutely devastating in its clarity.
The office erupted.
The black-suited men, who moments ago had been ready to smash furniture and intimidate my employees, suddenly looked lost. They glanced at each other, at Wesley, at their baseball bats like they'd forgotten what they were supposed to do with them. One of them actually lowered his weapon, confusion written across his face.
Behind me, the energy shifted like a storm changing direction.
"Holy shit," someone whispered.
"Did she just—"
"Two million—"
"Boss is loaded—"