Chapter 9 - Conference Room B
Conference Room B was a spacious, intimidating room dominated by a massive smoked-glass conference table and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bustling downtown skyline. When I pushed the heavy oak door open and stepped inside, the chill in the room was palpable.
Liam sat at the far end of the table, slumped forward with his head resting in his hands. He looked like a shattered remnant of the man who had strutted into our home just days ago. His expensive suit was wrinkled, his hair was uncombed, and dark, bruised circles shadowed his bloodshot eyes. He looked up as the door clicked shut behind me.
"Elena..." he rasped, starting to stand up, but a sharp cough from Mr. Henderson, who sat quietly at the opposite end of the table, stopped him dead in his tracks.
"Please sit down, Mr. Vance," Mr. Henderson said smoothly, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses and tapping a thick stack of legal documents resting neatly on the polished glass surface. "We have a great deal of paperwork to get through this morning, and I'm sure your schedule—what's left of it—is quite demanding."
Liam swallowed hard, sinking back down into his leather chair. He looked at me with a desperate, pleading expression, his lower lip trembling slightly. "Elena, please... can we talk? Just two minutes alone. Drop the lawyers. We can work this out. We have a family."
I walked slowly toward the table, my heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor with rhythmic precision. I pulled out the chair directly opposite him, sat down with deliberate grace, and rested my hands neatly on the surface.
"We *did* have a family, Liam," I said, my voice cutting through the silent room like a blade of ice. "You traded it for a twenty-three-year-old accountant and a series of corporate expense reports. Don't try to invoke the sanctity of marriage now that you've been caught red-handed."
Mr. Henderson slid the top folder across the glass toward Liam. The bold black letters at the top of the first page read: *MUTUAL PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE AND PROPERTY SETTLEMENT AGREEMENT.*
"Mr. Vance," the attorney said, his tone entirely devoid of emotion. "If you review the terms outlined in this document, you will find that your wife has been remarkably generous, considering the grounds for this separation."
Liam picked up the pages with trembling fingers. His eyes darted across the clauses, scanning the legal jargon with mounting horror.
"The house..." Liam choked out, looking up at me in disbelief. "You're taking full ownership of the house? Where am I supposed to live?"
"That's your problem, Liam," I replied, leaning back in my chair and crossing my legs. "You can move in with Chloe, for all I care. Oh, wait—did she block your number, too?"
May you like
Liam flinched as if he had been physically struck. "How did you—"
"Chloe Vance isn't interested in a broke, unemployed man who just lost his job and his family's financial backing, Liam," I said smoothly, resting my chin on my hand. "My father called me ten minutes ago. Your resignation has already been processed by HR, and the internal audit has frozen all of your corporate perks. You're entirely on your own."
