Chapter 6
Elsa
James's face went pale as he quickly moved away from me.
"Mr. Stone, I didn't think—" James stammered, but Drake had already wrenched open the car door, his scent filled with murderous intent.
I seized my chance, shoving the car door open and stumbling out, nearly falling as my legs threatened to give way beneath me.
"Fucking dog!" I hissed under my breath, rage and humiliation burning through me like acid. My torn blouse hung open, my skirt hiked indecently high, and I could feel my face swelling where James had struck me when I'd fought back.
I felt Drake's gaze on me, and assessing as he took in my disheveled clothing and bruised face. I tried to button what remained of my blouse, but my trembling fingers couldn't manage even this simple task. The shame of being seen like this by him—by anyone—made me want to crawl into a hole and die.
Look at me, you bastard. Look at what your "client" just did to me. See me as a person for once in your goddamn life.
Drake's eyes shifted to James, who still sat frozen in the driver's seat. "Mr. Smith," his voice was deceptively soft but carried the unmistakable weight of Alpha authority, "I believe we had an appointment today to discuss the investment."
"Y-yes, Mr. Stone," James stammered, not daring to meet Drake's gaze. "I was just... we were just..."
"Reviewing contracts? In your car?" Drake's words were ice. "How professional."
James's scent spiked with fear. Even from outside the car, I could smell the acrid stench of his terror.
Good. Be afraid, you pathetic excuse for a wolf. I hope you piss yourself right here in your expensive leather seats.
"For your wife," Drake said, reaching into his jacket pocket and producing a small jewelry box. "Her anniversary gift. I took the liberty of selecting something... appropriate."
James took the box with shaking hands, nodding frantically. "Thank you, Mr. Stone. Please, I hope this misunderstanding—"
"Drive away," Drake cut him off. "Now."
The engine roared to life, and James's car sped away, tires squealing on the pavement.
Die in a fucking ditch, you perverted piece of shit, I thought viciously, wrapping my arms around myself to stop shaking. I hope your dick falls off and your mate leaves you for someone with an actual soul.
Drake turned to me, his golden eyes cold. "This was your solution? Using yourself to secure a client?"
Is he fucking serious right now? I'm standing here half-naked and beaten, and THIS is what he has to say to me?
"Thank you," I managed to whisper, swallowing my pride along with the bitter taste of bile rising in my throat.
"Don't thank me," Drake snapped. "Do your job properly, and I wouldn't have to clean up your messes. I expect better behavior from my assistant."
I bit my lip until I tasted blood, fighting back tears of rage and humiliation. A hint of my fury must have shown in my eyes because Drake's expression hardened further.
This is how you treat me? After everything between us? You heartless bastard.
"Drake, sweetie?" A saccharine voice called from behind us. "Is everything okay? Are we still going to dinner?"
Vera stood several yards away, perfect in her red dress, black curls dancing in the breeze. Her eyes swept over my disheveled appearance with thinly veiled contempt, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.
Of course the princess shows up now. Perfect timing as always. Look at her smug face – she's practically getting off on seeing me like this. Pathetic bitch.
The transformation in Drake was immediate and sickening. His voice softened, the ice in his eyes melting into warmth I once thought was reserved for me.
"Of course, baby," he smiled, reaching out to stroke her hair. "Just handling a minor issue."
"Drake," Vera pouted, pressing against him, "we're going to miss our reservation."
Drake nodded, then turned back to me, his expression hardening again. "Since our senior assistant can't handle basic client relations, perhaps a change of assignment is needed."
My stomach dropped like an elevator with cut cables. He can't be serious. He wouldn't dare...
"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
"The island construction project needs management," he said flatly. "You'll go today. If you can't handle that, don't bother coming back at all."
I stood there, feeling the ground shift beneath my feet. Being sent to the remote iland was exile, plain and simple.
He's throwing me away. After everything, he's just... discarding me. Like yesterday's trash.
"I understand," I managed, my voice hollow.
Drake had already turned away, his arm around Vera's waist as they walked toward his Porsche. Her laughter floated back to me, light and victorious.
I remained rooted to the spot, watching them drive away, feeling something inside me finally break.
The assistant department was unnaturally quiet when I returned. Everyone pretended to be busy, but I felt their sidelong glances. News traveled faster than the plague in this company.
I mechanically packed my personal items into a small box. All my work, all my memories and efforts, reduced to this pathetic collection.
Kayla approached my desk, her eyes wide with surprise and guilt.
"I heard what happened... I should have warned you about James. He's notorious for being disrespectful to women."
I laughed bitterly, shoving the last framed photo into the box. "Doesn't matter. In this company, people like us are just trash to be thrown around anyway."
"Disrespectful" is putting it mildly. The man's a predator, and everyone knows it, but hey, he's got money, so who gives a shit about Omega safety, right?
Kayla looked at me, sympathy evident in her eyes. "Elsa..."
"Don't," I held up my hand to stop her. "I don't need pity. At least I still have a job, right? Sort of."
"When do you leave?" she asked softly.
"Now," I answered, my hands shaking as I organized the project files. "Fuck, all this work for this?"
All those nights staying late. All those weekends. All that loyalty. And this is my reward.
I picked up the box, looking around one last time. This place had been my second home, and now it felt like a prison I was finally escaping.
"Elsa," Kayla hesitated, "if you need anything..."
"Thanks," I cut her off with a fake smile, "but I'm used to taking care of myself."
No one else ever has, why start now?
I walked out of Stone Industries without looking back. I knew if I did, the dam would break. It wasn't until I was in the taxi to the airport that I allowed myself to tremble.
