Chapter 6
Damian's words were like a large-caliber round, punching straight through my armor.
The mocking, knowing looks from the crowd stung like a thousand tiny cuts.
Administrative assistant? Fetches coffee? Lacks core capabilities?
A decade of risking my life, of pulling the family back from the brink of financial disaster, was reduced to something so cheap, so worthless.
All to pave the way for a princess who had nothing but her bloodline.
I saw a flash of triumph in Isabella's eyes as she stood behind him. It was a needle that punctured my last shred of reason.
A molten rage washed over me, burning away my composure.
I shot to my feet, my chair scraping back as I charged toward the stage.
The moment my foot hit the first step, a powerful hand seized my wrist.
Damian had moved with lightning speed. His grip was so tight it felt like my bones would crack.
"Come with me," he warned, his voice low. The face I had loved for ten years was now as cold and unfamiliar as a stranger's.
"Let go!" I struggled, my voice trembling with rage.
Damian gave me no chance to resist.
He gave a slight nod to the stunned audience, his tone returning to its usual elegant calm.
"My apologies. My assistant appears to be emotional over some work-related changes. Excuse us."
With that, he ignored my struggles and practically dragged me out of the conference room.
The heavy oak door slammed shut behind us, cutting off all sound from within.
In the empty hallway, only the sound of our breathing remained.
I wrenched my arm free. An angry red mark was already blooming on my wrist.
I leaned back against the wall, gasping for air, and stared at him.
"You'd grind me into the dust just to prop her up?"
"In your eyes, am I less than a dog? At least a dog gets a word of praise from its master. What am I?"
Tears welled up, but I forced my eyes wide, refusing to let them fall.
Damian watched me in silence. The dim hallway light cut his face into sharp planes of shadow, hiding his expression.
Just when I thought he would fob me off with more of his pragmatic reasoning, he suddenly took a step forward.
He braced one hand on the wall beside my head and used the other to grip my chin, forcing me to look up at him.
He lowered his head, and his cold lips crashed down on mine without warning.
There was no prelude. It was a violent, silencing act.
His lips were cool and dry, moving against mine with an unyielding force that demanded submission.
My body went rigid. My mind went blank.
Damian pulled back just enough to look down at my stunned, speechless face. His throat worked as he swallowed.
"Now… can you calm down and not ruin this meeting?"
My eyes widened in disbelief as I stared at the face so close to mine.
I had chased him for a decade, fantasized countless times about this kind of closeness, even accepted an engagement that relegated me to the shadows.
I had once so desperately craved his touch, dreamed so many times of a kiss where he would lose control.
But now this long-awaited kiss had come, under these circumstances, delivered this way, all to shut me up.
A wave of shame, sharper than any public humiliation, washed over and drowned me.
A sharp crack echoed through the corridor.
I raised my hand and, with all the strength I possessed, brought it down across his face.
My palm stung from the impact.
Damian's head snapped to the side. Five red fingerprints bloomed across his proud face.
He was stunned.
For the first time, I saw shock in those deep grey eyes that were always in control of everything.
My hand was still shaking, but my heart felt like it had been hollowed out, aching with an empty pain.
"You think I'm throwing a tantrum? You think a kiss will make me forget this?"
I looked at him, and the tears finally broke free, but they were accompanied by a cold laugh.
"Damian, you disgust me."
Without another look at him, I turned and strode away.
I didn't go back to the conference room. I didn't try to argue my case.
None of it mattered anymore.
The light in the hallway was blinding. I raised a hand and wiped away my tears.
I went straight back to my office and opened the encrypted server.
My fingers flew across the keyboard, entering one final command.
Initiate backdoor program. Format all data.
Under that string of commands, the core code of the Phoenix model dissolved into endless, meaningless gibberish.
If you wanted to give it away, then I would reduce it to a pile of scrap.
After I was done, I pulled out the hard drive and fed it into a shredder.
Then, I blocked Damian's number and all his contacts.
A few hours later, I was standing in the security line at JFK Airport.
The boarding announcement began. I picked up my small suitcase and walked toward the gate without looking back.
The plane climbed into the sky, into the thick blanket of clouds.
Goodbye, Damian.
And goodbye to ten years of my own idiocy.
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