The lawyers didn’t speak, and the legal assistant kept her eyes glued to her notepad.
At the very back of the room, a man in a charcoal suit sat motionless against the tinted glass wall, his face obscured by the shadows.
Geneva remained perfectly still in her simple wool cardigan, her hands bare of the diamonds she once wore.
She looked exactly like the person Christian wanted her to be, a small, defeated woman who had finally been outgrown.
Inside, however, she was cataloging the memories of the nights he couldn’t afford to pay his staff.
She remembered every presentation she had edited for him and every high stakes connection she had quietly brokered.
She thought of every cent of her own inheritance that she had funneled into SkyGrid Tech when the rest of the market had turned its back.
Christian tapped his fingers on the table, his impatience growing visible.
“Don’t give me that look, you knew from the start you weren’t built for this world,” he sneered. “You never learned the right way to dress or how to speak to people who actually matter, because you were always just a mistake I was trying to fix.”
Geneva finally lifted her gaze, her eyes dry and terrifyingly calm.