Chapter 3

The security guards shut the heavy doors with a satisfying click.

Julian’s raging shouts and Bianca’s soft whimpers were cut off instantly.

I poured myself a glass of red wine and dialed my assistant, Chloe.

"Sienna."

Her voice was as calm and sharp as ever—my most reliable weapon.

"Did he go back to the office?" I asked.

"Yes, about thirty minutes ago."

"He's calling an emergency meeting with all the department heads, trying to 'stabilize the ship.'"

I checked my watch. It was 7:00 AM.

"Let him."

"Also," Chloe hesitated, "he contacted the media. He's hosting a personal press conference at 3:00 PM today in the building's main lobby."

I chuckled.

"He moves fast."

"Sienna, do you want us to shut it down?"

"No, do absolutely nothing."

I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the city skyline.

"Find the best angle, set up a camera, and live-stream the entire thing."

"I want to watch the show."

I spent the entire morning doing my skincare routine and some yoga.

At 3:00 PM sharp, I sat in front of my office screen.

On the display, Julian appeared wearing a sleek charcoal suit. His hair was meticulously styled, but the dark circles under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion.

Still, he carried an air of desperate determination.

"Members of the press," Julian’s voice was slightly hoarse.

"First, I want to sincerely apologize for allowing my personal life to take up public attention."

He bowed deeply.

Quite a performance.

"My wife, Sienna, and I have been together for eight years. In those eight years, we've had our share of arguments and misunderstandings, but our bond has always been deep."

His eyes swept toward the camera, as if he could see me through the screen.

"This time, it was nothing more than a minor domestic dispute. But because of my position, it was blown out of proportion."

He was downplaying it, spinning a blatant affair into a "minor dispute."

"As for the press conference Sienna held yesterday…"

He paused, a bitter, self-deprecating smile playing on his lips.

"She only did that because she loves me too much. She was hurt. Women can be emotional and dramatic at times."

"I love her, so I am willing to tolerate her emotional outbursts."

The journalists in the crowd began whispering.

"Julian, are you admitting to having an affair?" one reporter yelled out.

"I admit that I made a mistake—a lapse in judgment that any man under immense pressure might make," he replied, looking shockingly shameless.

"But my relationship with Bianca is strictly professional. I admire her talent as an employee, but there is absolutely nothing romantic between us."

"The only woman I have ever loved, and will ever love, is my wife, Sienna."

He spoke with such raw, convincing emotion that he almost fooled the entire room.

If only I didn't know the truth.

Chloe stood behind me, her brows knitted in a tight frown.

"Sienna, he’s gaslighting the public. He's painting you as a hysterical, jealous wife who's acting out of spite."

"Don't worry."

I took a sip of my coffee and blew on the steam.

"Let him finish his little show."

The moment the press conference ended, my phone rang. It was Julian.

His voice was dripping with smug satisfaction.

"Sienna, did you watch?"

"Now everyone thinks you're just throwing a tantrum. If you come out right now and apologize to me, we can go back to how things were."

"We can put this whole thing behind us."

I listened quietly.

I didn't speak until he had uttered his very last word.

"Julian."

I spoke softly.

"Do you actually think you've won?"

He seemed taken aback by my calm tone.

"Stop being stubborn! The board members are all on my side. You have nothing to fight me with!"

"The board?"

I laughed as if he had just said something incredibly stupid.

"Do you mean Director Reynolds, Director Carter, or Mr. Sterling?"

"Julian, you can't seriously be naive enough to think they answer to you."

The line went dead silent.

"What… what do you mean by that?" His voice started to crack.

"Nothing much," I whispered, a cold smile spreading across my face.

"I just wanted to remind you of a few things."

"The venue you used for your little press conference? That's 'my company.'"

"The money you used to pay off the journalists for those favorable articles? That came from the company's PR budget."

"And those board members you’re using to threaten me…"

I paused on purpose, enjoying the sound of his increasingly heavy breathing over the line.

"Their shares are actually held in trust. Under my name."

"Julian, take a wild guess."

"Who is the one actually getting kicked out of the game?"