The color drains from Sandra’s face so fast I half expect her to faint.
“Wait. Wait. Belov Global Holdings?” She actually scoffs, but there’s a crack in her voice. “You expect me to believe that?TheBelov Global Holdings? The one that just bought out—” She stops herself, lips pressing together.
Smart enough to know the name holds weight. Too dumb to realize she’s already lost.
“You’re lying.” She shakes her head, crossing her arms. “James wouldn’t—he didn’t mention anything about—”
“James,” Arseny interrupts smoothly, “is currently on a flight to Costa Rica.”
Sandra blinks. The reality is setting in.
“And,” Arseny continues, stepping forward as if she’s worth the effort of his time, “as per the terms of the acquisition, there will be a restructuring of leadership within the company.”
Sandra straightens, clearly scrambling for control. “Well, of course, I assume I’ll be integral in—”
“You will not.”
Silence.
Sandra’s jaw tightens, her lips parting like she might argue, but the way Arseny stares at her makes her hesitate. He’s not offering an opinion. He’s stating a fact.
“I—excuse me?” she stammers.
I finally turn to look at her. It’s brief. Just enough to let her see exactly what I think of her.
Nothing.
Arseny folds his hands in front of him, his posture impeccable, unshaken. “Ms. Rivera, your presence in this company is no longer required.”
Sandra’s mouth opens, then closes. “You— What?”
“You’re fired.” Arseny barely moves, but at his words, two men step forward—Belov security, sharp suits, colder eyes. They don’t touch Sandra, don’t have to. Just their presence alone tells her everything she needs to know.
This isn’t a debate.
This isn’t a misunderstanding.
This is the end of her.
Her breath shudders, her gaze darting between them, then back to Arseny. Her lips part like she wants to protest, but nothing comes out.
She knows.
With a sharp inhale, she snatches up her purse, spins on her heel, and storms toward the door. The men shadow her movements, ensuring she doesn’t pull anything stupid, but Sandra doesn’t even try. She knows better.
She throws one last glance over her shoulder, eyes burning with humiliated fury. But I don’t look at her. She’s already forgotten.
I’m still looking at the woman I’m holding.
Bella.
I finally let go of her hand, slow, deliberate, and the second I do, her fingers curl like she’s trying to process the fact that I was even touching her at all.
She looks stunned.
So fucking stunned that she can’t even speak.
I smirk, dragging my gaze over her—those sharp eyes, the tension in her jaw, the way her chest rises and falls just a little too quickly.
