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Chapter 357
Chapter 357:
Cole looked into her eyes. He saw no fear. He saw no love. He saw a woman fully prepared to burn his entire world to the ground just to escape him.
He had lost her. Completely and irrevocably.
A guttural roar of pure agony tore from his throat. He spun around and kicked the small glass coffee table with all his might. The heavy glass shattered into thousands of lethal shards, exploding across the carpet.
Cole stormed out of the room, radiating a dark aura of violence and despair, leaving June standing alone in the wreckage of their marriage.
Cole stormed down the long corridor of the penthouse, his heavy footsteps pounding against the hardwood like a war drum.
A suffocating aura of dark pressure rolled off his body in waves. Mrs. Lynch, still cowering near the utility closet, pressed herself flat against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut, too terrified to look at the bright, angry red handprint glowing on the side of the CEO’s face.
Cole did not even glance at her. He marched straight to the foyer, grabbed his damp suit jacket off the sofa, and walked out the front door without bothering to close it behind him.
𝗟atеѕ𝘁 c𝘩𝘢𝘱𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗈n.сo𝗆
He stepped into the private elevator and slammed his fist against the button for the underground garage.
Miles away, on the Upper East Side, the heavy mahogany doors of the Compton family townhouse were locked tight against the rain.
Inside the security control room, the head of the Compton family’s elite protection detail stared at the live feed from the penthouse’s internal hallway cameras. He had watched the ax swinging. He had watched Cole storm out with a slapped face.
The security chief swallowed hard. He picked up the secure red phone that connected directly to the matriarch’s private line.
In the grand living room of the townhouse, Old Mrs. Compton was sitting in a high-backed leather chair beside the roaring fireplace. She picked up the receiver.
“Report,” the old woman commanded.
The security chief hesitated for a fraction of a second before his voice came through, trembling. “Madam… Mr. Cole breached the guest room door with a fire ax. There was an altercation. Madam June — she struck Mr. Cole across the face. He has just left the premises p>
The security chief braced himself, expecting the matriarch to explode in rage over the physical assault on the family heir.
Instead, a sudden, sharp sound echoed through the phone line.
Old Mrs. Compton laughed.
It was a loud, bright, and utterly genuine laugh of pure satisfaction. The sound bounced off the high ceilings of the townhouse, making the nearby butler jump in shock.
“Good,” Old Mrs. Compton declared, her voice ringing with fierce approval. “It is about time someone knocked some sense into that arrogant fool p>
She leaned forward, her tone shifting back to absolute authority.
“Pull the entire security detail out of the penthouse,” she ordered. “Lock down the elevators. No one — absolutely no one — is allowed up there to bother June without my explicit permission p>
“Yes, Madam,” the security chief replied quickly.