Chapter 4 - The Vengeance WalkThe next morning, the revolving doors of Dubois & Laurent felt heavier than usual, but as I stepped inside wearing a tailored navy suit—purchased via an emergency delivery Matteo had arranged—the atmosphere was utterly electric.
Gone were the whispers and condescending grins. Instead, junior associates pressed themselves flat against the walls as I walked past, their eyes wide with a mixture of terror and awe. The news had traveled fast through the corporate grapevine: the quiet girl from the cubicles hadn't just married the most dangerous man in Manhattan; she had come back to take over the building.
When I pushed open the frosted glass door of the executive boardroom, Jean Dubois was already sitting at the head of the long conference table. His hair was disheveled, his expensive tie crooked, and his skin the color of wet cement. Beside him stood Mabel, her eyes red-rimmed and furious, clutching a cardboard box of personal belongings.
"Ayla," Jean choked out, standing up abruptly with a desperate, pathetic smile. "Thank God. Look, whatever nonsense was printed in the papers yesterday—we can clear this up. It was a misunderstanding. Mabel was just joking around, you know how she is, high-spirits—"
"Sit down, Jean," I said.
My voice didn't shake. It didn't waver. It was flat, cold, and carried the absolute weight of eighteen months of silent fury.
Jean froze, his mouth working silently like a fish out of water. He slowly lowered himself back into his chair.
Mabel slammed her cardboard box onto the edge of the table, glaring at me with unadulterated venom. "You think you're clever, don't you?" she spat, her voice trembling with rage. "You think because some billionaire played white knight for five minutes, you actually belong here? You're nothing! You bought your clothes off a discount rack! My father built this company—"
"Your father built this company on stolen briefs, inflated budgets, and taking credit for the work of people he paid pennies," a cool, smooth voice interrupted from the doorway.
Luca Bianchi stepped into the room, followed closely by Matteo. The air pressure in the boardroom dropped instantly.
Matteo walked straight to the head of the table, ignoring Jean entirely, and pulled out the chair directly to my left. He didn't sit; he simply rested his hand on the back of it, his dark eyes fixed entirely on Mabel.
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"Mr. Laurent has already tendered his resignation," Matteo stated casually, pulling a document from his pocket and tossing it onto the glass table. "Along with a confession regarding three counts of corporate embezzlement. Your family’s name is off the building, Miss Laurent. Effective immediately."
Mabel stared at the paper, her knees buckling as reality finally crashed down around her.
