I pause, letting that land.
"Didn't you once say women have no place on the board? Remember? At the frat party in college?"
I look directly at Sandra. Her expression shifts from confusion to fury as she glares at Brian.
"Didn't you also say women should really stop forcing themselves up in the workplace because the only place they need to work is the kitchen? You don't remember? It was at your graduation party."
Audible gasps come from several employees. Joyce's face hardens with anger.
"For a man who runs a media company, you are so backward it's funny."
Brian laughs nervously. "God, what are you on?"
I smile back, unshaken. "You also gaslight women into thinking they're being dramatic when they're trying to make a point."
Brian's smile drops. "Let's talk in private, Meredith."
I shake my head. "Why? Afraid of airing your dirty laundry? You stormed into my building, my company. You had no problem making a scene when you came for me." With another smile, I take Cole's hand, lacing my fingers through his.
"Yes, I'm fucking my bodyguard. And you know what? You are not a tenth of the man he is. Yes, I’m fucking a man, Brian. And the thought of fucking you, Brian, leaves me as dry as dust, and gagging."
I step closer to Brian. "He doesn't tell me to shut up or patronize me. He doesn't tell me to lose weight because he cannot carryme. He doesn't say I should work on other skills because the office isn't where I belong."
Brian's face flushes. He opens his mouth, but I continue before he can speak.
"My father never wanted to work with you, even when you tried to force your way into Ashton Collective. You said you wanted me trained to be your wife. You really need to take a good, long look in the mirror, Brian."
I pause, then deliver the final blow.
"You're a twenty-eight-year-old man living off your father's name, desperate to marry into my family's business because you've never built anything of your own. Every achievement you claim is borrowed. Every connection you have is inherited. You're not a businessman, or whatever it is you try to call yourself. You're a trust fund baby playing dress-up, and everyone knows it, even that dirt under your shoe."
Brian stands frozen, his face purplish with rage and humiliation. Around us, employees watch in stunned silence. Some are trying not to smile. The board members look satisfied, even proud.
I turn to leave with Cole, head high. As I pass Brian, he reaches out and tries to grab my arm in a last desperate attempt to make his point. Cole's hand shoots out instantly, catching Brian's wrist. He grips it hard enough that Brian winces and gasps. He squeals an involuntary, “Ouch!”
"You touch her, and I'll break your fingers," Cole says, voice deadly calm and low. “One by one, slowly.”
Brian, trying to save face, sneers. "Is that a threat?"
Cole steps closer, gets in Brian's face. Brian, for all his earlier bravado, backs up a step instinctively.
"Buddy, I do not make threats," Cole says flatly.
Sandra steps forward, looking at Brian with contempt. "You need to leave this building. Now."
Brian tries to protest. "You can't?—"
"You cannot insult the owner of this company in her own building and not suffer consequences."
Joyce adds, her voice cold, "Percy Media just lost a major partner. We're cutting all ties with your company, effective immediately."
Karen nods in agreement. "And I'll make sure the rest of the industry knows exactly why. Your reputation is finished."
Brian realizes he's lost. Publicly humiliated in front of my employees and board. Business relationships destroyed. He has no power here. He has no power over me.
He leaves, defeated and furious, trying to maintain dignity as employees watch him go, whispering among themselves.
After he's gone, there's a beat of silence in the hallway. Then someone starts clapping—one employee, then another. The applause spreads, not everyone joins, but enough.
