Chapter 22
Chapter 22:
Cole seized her wrist. His grip was hard. “You’re making a mistake. Walk out that door and I will destroy you. I will bury Apex Bio. I will make sure you never work in this city again p>
“Try it,” June said, pulling her arm free.
“Wednesday,” Cole snarled. “Nine o’clock. If you’re one minute late, I’ll file for abandonment and take everything — your name, your reputation, all of it p>
“I’ll be there,” June said. “Bring a pen. And try not to shake when you sign my freedom p>
She walked down the stairs without looking back.
Outside, she opened her phone, the screen casting a pale light across her face. She summoned a black car service. A sleek Cadillac Escalade appeared at the gates within minutes.
Cole stood at the window and watched her step into the car — a silhouette of absolute resolve caught briefly in the headlights. He looked down at the torn pieces of the check scattered across the floor.
For the first time in his life, his money felt like nothing at all.
Tuesday. The day before the end.
𝗧𝗵о𝘶𝗌𝖺𝗻d𝘴 𝗈𝗳 𝗿𝗲𝖺𝖽𝗲𝗿𝗌 о𝘯
June was running on fumes.
She sat in her office at Apex, surrounded by data sheets, the pain in her side a constant, dull roar. She had taken three painkillers. They barely touched it.
Miles knocked on the glass door.
“Go home, June,” he said. “You look like a ghost p>
“I have to finish the projection for the board,” June muttered, typing without looking up.
Miles walked in and closed her laptop. “The board can wait. Your health cannot.” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m serious. If you pass out in my lab, the insurance paperwork alone will ruin my week.” He was making a joke, but his eyes were not.
“I have a court date tomorrow,” June said, leaning back in the chair. “My divorce p>
Miles nodded slowly. “Then you need sleep. You need to be sharp p>
He drove her home again and walked her to the elevator.
“Call me if you need anything,” he said. “Even if it’s just to yell at someone p>
“Thanks, Miles p>
June rode up to the penthouse. Vera was waiting on the sofa with a bottle of wine.
“Pre-freedom party?” Vera offered.
“Water,” June said, dropping onto the cushions. “Just water p>
She drank one glass, then another. She felt feverish and hollowed out.
Her phone rang at midnight.
Cole.
She stared at the screen. He was probably drunk. Probably calling to threaten her, or to demand to know why she had torn the check to pieces.
She pressed the side button. Decline.
Then she went into settings and blocked the number. She set the phone down. It felt like cutting an anchor chain loose from her ankle.
Wednesday morning, June woke with a sharp, stabbing gasp.
She checked the time. 7:30 AM.
She pulled herself out of bed. She put on the white suit she had purchased for this day — a symbol of a clean slate — and applied concealer to the dark circles beneath her eyes. She stood before the mirror. She looked powerful. She felt like she was coming apart.