Chapter 9
Alexandrea stared into Barron's dark, furious eyes. The fear in her chest was suddenly swallowed by a massive wave of bitter resentment.
She stopped struggling against his grip. Her body went completely still. Her eyes turned cold and dead.
"Fine," Alexandrea said, her voice eerily calm. "You want to know? I was with Cassidy Gross last night."
Barron's fingers dug into her jaw. His knuckles turned white.
Alexandrea ignored the pain. She spoke faster, her words sharp and precise. "But he just gave me a place to sleep because I was drunk. We didn't do anything. Not that I owe my CEO an explanation of my sex life."
Barron's chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths. He wanted to murder Cassidy Gross. He wanted to tear the building down. But more than anything, he refused to let this woman see how much power she had over him.
He released her chin. He let go of her wrist. He stepped back so fast it was as if she had burned him.
He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a folded silk handkerchief.
While looking dead into her eyes, Barron dragged the silk fabric over his fingers, wiping his hands as if touching her had contaminated him.
The gesture was a physical blow. Alexandrea felt the air leave her lungs.
Barron turned his back on her and walked to his desk. He threw the handkerchief into the trash can.
"A place to sleep?" Barron mocked, his voice returning to its icy, corporate baseline. "Do you think the CEO of Gross Capital runs a charity? You lack basic professional boundaries. It's pathetic."
Alexandrea's hands curled into fists. Her nails bit into her palms.
"Professional boundaries?" she shot back, her voice trembling with rage. "Is that what your highly publicized engagement to Cheslie Schroeder is? A lesson in professional boundaries? Or just a way to make the quarterly reports look good?"
Barron froze. She had hit the exact nerve he was trying to hide. The engagement was a fake, a strategic move to secure a merger, but he couldn't tell her that.
The air in the room dropped to freezing.
Barron sat down slowly in his leather chair. He pressed the intercom button on his desk.
"Thorne," Barron said, his voice devoid of all humanity. "Draft termination papers for Miss West."
A sharp intake of breath echoed through the intercom speaker, followed by a quiet, "Yes, sir."
Alexandrea's heart stopped. The blood rushed out of her head. Her knees went weak.
Five years. She had stood between him and bullets. She had given him her entire youth, her entire heart. And he was throwing her away because of his own twisted ego.
Barron folded his hands on the desk. He looked at her like she was a stranger.
"Santana Corp does not employ liabilities," Barron stated coldly. "If you cannot manage your messy personal life, don't bother swiping your badge tomorrow."
It was a threat. He was trying to force her to cut ties with Cassidy.
But Alexandrea didn't hear the strategy. She only heard the rejection.
Her chest physically cracked. A tear broke free, sliding down her pale cheek.
She forced her shaking legs to stand straight. She looked at the man she loved with complete and utter devastation.
"As you wish, Mr. Santana," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'll take care of it."
She turned around, hit the unlock button on the wall panel, and pushed the heavy glass door open, running for her life.
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