Chapter 354

[ 987 words ]

Katia’s POV

“Martha, let me ask you a question. Who the fuck are you to come into my office and question who I choose to keep under my roof and who I choose to toss onto the street? You seem to have forgotten your place p>

Martha blinked, clearly stunned. She batted her lashes, trying to retreat into that classic, victimized-mother act, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. She took a breath, trying to regain her composure, smoothing out her skirt with trembling hands. “Katia, you don’t speak to me like that. I am your mother p>

I let out a harsh, mocking laugh that echoed off the glass walls. “My mother? You think that word still carries weight? Let me refresh your memory. You stopped being my mother the day you threw me out of your house, the day you decided I was worth less than the trash in your driveway. You don’t get to play the ’mom’ card whenever it’s convenient for your social circle. If you don’t have anything of substance to say, leave. Or do I need to call security to escort you out of my office like the unwanted guest you are p>

Martha’s face went through a kaleidoscope of colors: red, purple, then a sickly, pale white. Her facade finally snapped. She lunged forward, her voice rising into a shrill, hysterical yell that was surely audible to every soul on the floor. “I carried you for nine months! I went through agony to bring you into this world! I am the reason you have breath in your lungs, you ungrateful, heartless brat p>

I stood up slowly, my heels clicking against the floor as I walked around the desk until I was inches from her. I leaned into her space, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper that didn’t hide the absolute disdain I felt for her existence. “Oh, please. Don’t act like it was a grand sacrifice. If you had so many regrets about carrying me for nine months, you could have just aborted me. It would have saved us both a lifetime of this pathetic, transactional bullshit. But you didn’t, did you? You kept me because I was an asset, just like everything else in your miserable life p>

Martha reeled back as if I had physically slapped her. She looked at me, truly looking at me, and finally realized that the daughter she thought she could control had been replaced by something she couldn’t break. She opened her mouth to scream something else, but the words died in her throat. She looked around the office, at the wealth, the power, and the terrifying lack of empathy in my eyes, and she finally understood that she had zero leverage.

Without another word, she turned on her heel. She didn’t say goodbye; she didn’t offer a final insult. She just walked out the door with her head held high, desperate to save whatever was left of her shattered pride as she retreated into the elevator.

Sam stood by the door, watching her go with a look of pure, unadulterated shock. She looked back at me, her eyes wide. “Well. That was certainly one way to handle family drama p>

“That wasn’t family drama,” I said, walking back to my chair and picking up my pen. “That was a cleanup operation. Now, back to business. I want Delia out of the city by tomorrow p>

Sam smirked, her shock quickly replaced by that lethal, loyal gleam. “Consider it done. I’ll make sure the message is delivered loud and clear p>

“Good,” I said, opening the next file. “And Sam? Next time someone like her shows up, don’t even wait for them to complain. Just have security ready to drag them out. I don’t want the air in here contaminated by her presence ever again p>

Sam nodded, but before she left, she leaned in, her voice low. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the Aman yourself? You seem like you’re ready to finish this p>

I didn’t look up from the papers, but the corner of my mouth turned up into a smirk. “I told you, Sam. I have a plan. Let him sit in that room for another twelve hours. Let the silence of that suite remind him exactly what he lost. When he finally breaks, and he will, I want him to be at his absolute lowest. I want him to be desperate. Because that is the only version of Julian Windsor that I am interested in reclaiming p>

“You are truly a menace,” Sam whispered, though she was clearly impressed. “I’ll get the report to you before I leave tonight. Enjoy the power trip, Katia p>

“I plan on it,” I said, finally looking up. “And Sam? Make sure the staff at the hotel keeps their mouths shut about any visitors. I want him thinking he’s completely alone, even if he isn’t. The isolation is part of the therapy p>

Sam gave a sharp nod and walked out of the office, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

I sat there in the silence, the air finally clear of the suffocating scent of Martha’s perfume. I looked at the skyline again. The game was mine. The board was cleared of the most annoying pieces, and now, it was just down to me and Julian. I wouldn’t rush it. I wouldn’t beg. I would wait until he was so hungry for my touch, for my voice, for my approval, that he would agree to anything just to get back into my orbit. And when he did, I would remind him that he didn’t own the board—I did. Every move he made from this point forward was a move I had already calculated, already anticipated, and already weaponized.

I checked my watch. 1:00 PM. The day was still young, and I had a company to pivot, a husband to break, and a legacy to secure.

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