Chapter 359
Chapter 359:
“You,” she announced.
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a frequency that grated on the nerves.
She ignored the two junior secretaries who tried to step in her path, pushing past them with a physical strength that belied her age. She shoved the heavy oak doors of Skye’s office open and stepped inside.
Skye didn’t move. She leaned against her desk, crossing her arms.
“Mrs. Thorne,” Skye said. “To what do I owe the displeasure p>
Catherine threw her handbag onto the leather sofa. It landed with a heavy, dull sound.
“You have some nerve,” she hissed, closing the distance between them. She smelled of expensive powder and gin. “Humiliating my son in a board meeting? Leaking photos to the press? Do you think because you share a bed with that bastard Alistair that you are untouchable p>
“I think I’m untouchable because I own fifty-one percent of this building,” Skye replied coolly. “And you are trespassing p>
“Trespassing?” Catherine laughed, a harsh, barking sound. “I am a Thorne. I go where I please. And you, you little Kensington reject, you need to learn your place. You are a tool Alistair is using to annoy his father. Nothing more p>
She stepped closer, invading Skye’s personal space. Her eyes were hard, black beads.
“You will issue a public apology to Dominic,” she commanded. “And you will sign the Graves deal. Today p>
Skye looked at her. She saw the arrogance that came from decades of never being told “no.” She saw the delusion.
“No,” Skye said.
Catherine’s eyes widened. “What did you say p>
“I said no. And get out of my office p>
Her hand moved fast. Too fast for an old woman. She raised her palm, aiming for Skye’s face. It was a reflex, a disciplinary action she had probably used on servants and children for fifty years.
But Skye was not a servant. And she was not a child.
Skye caught her wrist in midair.
Her grip was tight. She felt the fragile bones shift under her fingers. Catherine’s skin was dry and paper-thin.
𝘛hіs 𝘀𝗍𝗼𝘳𝘆 𝘣𝘦𝗅𝗼𝗻𝗀s 𝘵𝘰 𝗯e𝘭𝘯o𝘃𝗲𝗹ѕ.𝘤𝗼𝗆
Catherine gasped, shock replacing the anger in her eyes. “Let go of me p>
“You don’t get to hit people anymore, Catherine,” Skye said, her voice low. “The world has changed while you were busy drinking gin in your ivory tower p>
She shoved Catherine’s hand away. Catherine stumbled back, her heels catching on the plush carpet. She had to grab the back of a chair to steady herself.
The office doors burst open again. Two of Skye’s security guards, large men in dark suits, filled the frame.
“Get her out,” Skye ordered, pointing at Catherine.
Catherine straightened her jacket, her face flushing a deep, ugly red. “Do not touch me! I am Catherine Thorne! I will have your jobs p>
The guards didn’t hesitate. They worked for Oracle. They worked for Skye.
They flanked her, each taking an elbow. They weren’t rough, but they were firm. They lifted her slightly off the ground as they turned her toward the door.
“Unhand me!” Catherine shrieked, her dignity shattering. “Skye! You will pay for this! I will ruin you p>
“You’re welcome to try,” Skye said.
They dragged her out. Her screams echoed down the hallway, “Do you know who I am?!” until the elevator doors closed, cutting off the noise.
Skye stood there for a moment, listening to the silence return. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. Her hand, the one that had grabbed Catherine’s wrist, was trembling.