Chapter 63 Chapter 63
DOMINIC'S POV
The room emptied like a theater at the end of a movie but I sat frozen, the cold envelope in my hand, though I hadn't looked at it in a few minutes. My gaze was in a space somewhere between the very waxed mahogany table and the vacant area that now held the boardroom space. It was done. I knew it. The silence that followed the vote was more deafening than any scandal, more deafening than any PR noise.
I didn't move. Couldn't. I heard the soft cadence of footsteps. Mr. Raymond passed beside me, catching a passing second's look, his mouth working, "I'm sorry," as if a benediction I had not desired. I did not answer. He did try to wait. That seat on the other side of the room was empty now, Liana had stormed out without so much as a backward glance. That hurt worse than the words. Worse than the vote. Worse than the title having been ripped from me like I hadn't bled sweat into this business.
I rubbed my face, slow and careful. My hands trembled when I brushed against my chin. Not with fear, I wasn't afraid. It was humiliation. And a sense of loss, anger. A corrosive blend.
I heard footsteps once more and turned in the direction to find Nathan. I glared up, gritting my teeth. He stood next to me, fingers in pockets. Not smug. Not victorious. Just there, like a man just getting on with it.
"You've got two weeks," he said to me, his tone low. "My advice? Don't waste them."
I chuckled. "Did she sleep with you too, or just give you a new suit and a new rank?"
He didn't flinch. His eyes were steady. Unshaken. "Grow up, Dominic. Not everyone takes the shortcuts to get to good places like you."
That stung. He spun around and walked away cooly. Like he'd just been let in on the biggest betrayal of my life. I should have screamed. Or even broken something. But I just sat there in that goddamn chair and remembered something that Liana had told me a long time ago, when she was still married to me:
"Beware whom you step on to reach higher. They may be the ladder you need one day."
I'd laughed at that point. Thought she was idealistic. Naïve and soft. Now it feels like it was a prophecy.
I stood up, chair scraping behind me. My knees groaned. My back ached as if I'd been bearing a decade's worth of pride on it. I marched back to my office.
Swipe. Nothing. I tried again but my access card glowed red. My name was already locked out of the system.
"You've got to be kidding me," I said.
I shouldered the door open. My office still looked like mine, but it wasn't anymore. The temperature was colder, the air stagnant. The pictures on my desk mocked me. I grabbed the crystal paperweight and hurled it across the room. It hit the bookshelf and crashed, shattering a picture frame and glass spilling onto the floor.
"FUCK!"
I kicked the chair. Punched the edge of the desk. Stripped like a caged animal, the pound of my heart pounding against my head.
The door opened without a knock.
Gavin.
"Came to get a file," he grunted, walking in like it wasn't my office he had just barged into.
"So we're barging into offices now?"
“Well, it isn't yours anymore.” he said carelessly and my anger rose.
He stopped. Turned slowly. "I told you months ago. You didn't listen."
"But you knew she had a plan."
He shrugged. "I guessed. Didn't know it would be so. detailed."
I glared at him, murder running through my blood. My fists clenched.He looked back at me, calm. I would have punched him but I needed to control my emotions. "You don't need another headline, Dominic. Think well." I said to myself.
I didn't budge. I didn't say anything. I didn't punch him like my mind suggested i just controlled myself. Trust me, control tastes bitter.
He grabbed the file and walked out my world burning behind him.
I collapsed into my chair, out of breath. My hands encircled the arms as if I was holding myself back from floating into hell. This was hell. I stared out the window. My face glared back at me. Faint. Drained. Who the bloody hell was I?
I breathed softly into the emptiness, "You let your pride kill everything."
And then an idea slipped in—soft, wicked, and unavoidable.
This isn't over. Liana thought she'd gotten everything from me. But there were some things she didn't know. Some things I still held. People. Power.
My phone rang. An unknown number.
I hesitated, thumb above the screen. And then I answered.
"Hello?"
A pause. Then a deep, clean voice followed. "You don't know me. But I've got something you'll want to hear. Something about Liana."
My pulse sped up. "Who are you?"
"Somebody who doesn't value what she's become. Let's just say I've got something. And you're the kind of guy who needs to have an ace up his sleeve."
I steeled myself. "Where?"
Somewhere quiet. Off the books. He gave me an address. A bar in a dead strip mall.
"Two hours," he told me. "And alone."
Click. The silence after the call was thick, thick with danger and potential. My hand tightened on the phone. Maybe the ladder I fell off wasn't broken. Maybe it just needed a new rung.
I looked back over my shoulder at the shadow of my office. At the vacant chair where I once ruled.
"You want war, Liana?"
I stood up. "Then you'll get it. I am always equal to the task.”