Chapter 4 - The Annihilation
"Heir?" Paisley whispered, her voice trembling as she shrank back, suddenly realizing that her diamond necklace looked like cheap glass next to the Harrell ruby. "Spencer, what is he talking about?"
"Apex Group is a subsidiary of Harrell International," Marcus Vance stepped forward, bowing respectfully to my father before looking at Spencer with absolute disgust. "You just spent the last twenty minutes pitching a contract to a company owned by your wife's family."
Spencer looked like he was going to vomit. He reached out a shaking hand toward me.
"Phoebe, honey," Spencer stammered, dropping his voice to a frantic, pleading whisper. "I don't understand. Why didn't you tell me? We can explain this. Paisley is just... she's just a colleague. A misunderstanding."
I looked at the man I had served, cooked for, and loved for three years. I felt absolutely nothing but pity.
"A colleague?" I asked, pulling my phone from my clutch. I tapped the screen and held it up, displaying the selfie Paisley had sent me just two hours ago, complete with the caption about how he belonged to her.
I let the entire circle of executives see it.
"You told me I would only embarrass you, Spencer," I said, my voice perfectly steady, echoing in the quiet ballroom. "You said I didn't belong with people who matter. But you built your entire company on a line of credit from the First National Bank of Chicago. A bank my father owns."
Spencer’s knees physically buckled. He grabbed the edge of a cocktail table to keep from collapsing.
"Marcus," my father said without looking away from Spencer.
"Yes, Mr. Harrell?"
"Pull the Apex contract from Reed Enterprises," my father ordered coldly. "Call the bank. I want Spencer Reed's corporate loans called in immediately. Liquidate his assets, freeze his accounts, and ensure he is blacklisted from every venture capital firm on the Eastern Seaboard."
"Dad, wait," I interrupted softly.
Spencer looked up, a pathetic spark of hope flashing in his eyes. He thought I was going to save him. He thought the quiet, invisible wife was still there.
I turned to Paisley, who was trembling violently in her gold dress.
"You wanted him completely," I said, offering her a cold, merciless smile. "He’s yours. But you might want to learn how to cook on a budget. Because by midnight, you’ll be dating a man who can't even afford to buy you a cup of coffee."
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I turned my back on them.
I didn't stay to watch Spencer fall to his knees, begging Marcus to reconsider. I didn't listen to Paisley’s frantic sobbing as the security guards stepped forward to escort the ruined couple out the service exit. I simply took my father's arm and walked toward the VIP tables, stepping fully out of the shadows and taking my rightful place at the top of the world.
