Chapter 4 - The Liquidation
I looked at Silas.
"Mr. Rowan," I said smoothly. "If I were to revoke my license with Cross Hospitality tonight, would Rowan Global be interested in acquiring an exclusive, lifetime partnership for a hospitality forecasting algorithm?"
Silas smiled. It was not a warm expression. It was the smile of an apex predator watching a trap snap shut.
"Rowan Global would be exceptionally interested, Madam," Silas murmured, offering a slight, respectful bow of his head. "In fact, my legal team has the acquisition papers waiting in my car."
"Elena, please!" Marcus sobbed, reaching out toward me, completely abandoning whatever dignity he had left. "You're my wife! We built this together! I'll break it off with Celeste! She meant nothing, I swear!"
He was throwing his mistress to the wolves to save his own skin, not realizing he had already been eaten alive.
"You built nothing," I said, looking down at him with ultimate, chilling indifference. "You were just a salesman. And I am officially terminating your contract."
I walked to the closet, picked up a heavy black trash bag, and threw it at his chest.
"Pack your things, Marcus. Not in the suitcase. You bought that with my algorithm's money. Use the bag."
Marcus wept, his hands shaking as he desperately stuffed his expensive navy suits into the plastic garbage bag.
Silas opened my bedroom door and stood aside, offering me his arm.
I didn't look back as Marcus dragged his trash bag out into the cold, silver rain, completely bankrupt, heading toward a mistress who was just as penniless as he was. I slipped my hand through the billionaire’s arm, listening to the absolute quiet of my house.
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"Shall we review those acquisition papers downstairs, Mr. Rowan?" I asked.
"It would be my absolute pleasure, Mrs. Cross," he replied.
