The boardroom echoed with the last steps of departing executives as Danelle returned to her office. She walked in, removed her blazer, and sank into her chair like a weight had just collapsed onto her shoulders.
For a few seconds, she sat still—shoulders slumped, mind whirling. The walls of the office, tall and sophisticated, felt like they were closing in. The morning had been nothing short of exhausting.
Theo Kingsley.
Her jaw clenched at the thought of him. His smug face, his condescending tone, the veiled insults he tossed at her under the guise of "business advice." It had taken every ounce of her composure not to throw the glass of water on the table at him. And maybe the table too.
One more act of disrespect, and she would fire him. No apologies. No second chances. No long-winded HR processes. He would be gone. Period.
