William stood there, chest heaving, glare burning into the side of my head. After a long, tense moment, he spun and stormed toward the executive suite, slamming the door behind him.
Less than ten minutes later, my line rang. The secretary's voice was pure ice.
"Alex, Ms. Pruitt wants to see you. Immediately."
Here it comes.
I stood, straightened my collar, and walked the length of the office. Dozens of eyes tracked my movement, waiting for the execution.
I pushed open the heavy oak door.
Willow sat behind her massive desk, face a mask of suppressed fury. William stood to the side, arms crossed, wearing a smug wait-until-mom-hears-about-this expression.
"Alex! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Willow slapped her palm against the mahogany. "Why aren't you assisting William? The client is demanding that draft—do you not understand the urgency?"
She didn't wait for an answer. "This project is worth over a hundred million! If this deal collapses because of your refusal to cooperate, can you afford the consequences?"
Her accusations fired rapidly, framing the entire chaos as my personal failure.
I waited until she ran out of breath.
Then I smiled. Faint, but sharp enough to cut.