No one moved, and that silence hurt as much as the physical blow itself.
I looked at Victor, hoping for even the smallest sign of support, but he avoided my gaze and looked down, revealing everything I needed to understand.
There was no confusion in his expression, only quiet agreement, and that realization shattered what remained of my trust.
I picked up my bag and tried to hold back my tears as I walked out of the room, my face burning from both the strike and the humiliation.
Once I reached the hallway, I finally let myself breathe, though my hands trembled as I dialed a number I had avoided for years.
My voice remained steady when I said, “Dad, it’s time.”
What no one inside that room expected was that the person entering next was not coming to calm the situation, but to end it completely.
Part 2
My father, Jonathan Monroe, was known for his discipline and integrity rather than scandal, which is exactly why his presence carried so much authority.
He had served as a judge for over twenty years before becoming one of the most respected litigation attorneys in the country, specializing in property and corporate law in Chicago.