Chapter 10
891 Words
Camille
The glass walls of the conference room reflected the cold, professional sheen of corporate power—polished, sharp, and unforgiving. I sat at the head of the table, my fingers tapping lightly against the polished oak surface as I waited. The folder in front of me felt heavier than it should have, thick with evidence and intention. This was no longer a waiting game. It was war.
HR arrived first. Michelle, the director, walked in with a clipboard in hand, her expression unreadable but curious. She nodded toward me. “Camille. Morning.”
“Morning,” I replied, my voice calm, steady. “Thanks for making time.”
She sat across from me, flipping open a notepad. “You said this was urgent?”
I opened the folder and slid it across the table. “This is a compilation of emails, financial records, and project data—all pointing to one person: Vivian Monroe. She’s been manipulating internal reports, redirecting client accounts for personal gain, and creating false narratives about my work performance to sabotage my career.”
Michelle’s eyes scanned the first few pages, her brows pulling together as she read. “These… are serious accusations.”
“They’re also supported by hard evidence. And I’d like to file a formal complaint, effective immediately.”
She nodded slowly, still reading. “And where did all of this come from?”
“Internal leaks, some anonymous. Let’s just say Vivian’s made more enemies than friends. People are finally ready to talk.”
Michelle leaned back, her tone shifting to one of concern. “You understand that if we launch an investigation, it can’t be taken lightly. This could shake up the entire division.”
“That’s the point.” I met her eyes. “Let it shake.”
---
An hour later, Vivian walked in, completely unaware that her carefully constructed world was beginning to collapse. She wore a bold red blazer, her usual armor, and walked with that infuriating confidence that once made me doubt myself.
“HR called me for a meeting,” she said casually, slipping into the seat beside me. “You wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.
Michelle entered seconds later, closing the door behind her. She opened her folder and began with an icy calm, “Vivian, thank you for joining us. There are some concerns regarding misconduct and abuse of power that we’ve been made aware of. We’ll be conducting a preliminary review of these claims.”
Vivian’s smile faltered for half a second. “Excuse me?”
Michelle didn’t flinch. “A formal complaint has been filed, supported by documentation. We’ll need access to your office, your company laptop, and all files effective immediately.”
Vivian turned toward me, her eyes narrow and sharp. “You did this.”
I didn’t deny it. “No. *You* did this. I’m just the one holding up the mirror.”
Her face flushed, lips pressed into a thin line. She stood abruptly. “You’ll regret this.”
I stayed seated, calm, in control. “I already did. But not anymore.”
---
By noon, word had spread like wildfire. Vivian had been escorted from the building while the investigation took off. The office buzzed with whispered theories and wide eyes. But no one dared to approach me directly—at least not at first.
Until Enrique.
I found him waiting by my office door as I returned from a meeting with Legal. He had that same look in his eyes—smoldering, unreadable, but deeply knowing.
“I heard,” he said quietly.
“I’m sure half of Chicago has by now,” I replied, brushing past him into my office.
He followed, closing the door behind him. “You did what you had to do.”
I turned to him, my armor cracking just slightly in his presence. “It’s not over. It might never really be over. But I’m not hiding anymore.”
Enrique stepped closer, his gaze holding mine. “Good. Because the woman I see now? She’s terrifying—and incredible.”
The words hung between us, thick with tension. I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
He reached for my hand, slowly, deliberately. “And I want to be part of whatever comes next. Not just business. Not just revenge.”
“I’m not ready,” I said, barely a whisper.
His thumb brushed over my knuckles. “You don’t have to be. Just don’t shut me out.”
For the first time, I didn’t.
---
That night, I stood in front of my mirror at home, staring at the woman I was becoming. The lines around my eyes felt sharper, my stare more commanding. Power had a way of reshaping you. I’d burned bridges. I’d drawn blood. And I wasn’t done.
But somewhere in the flames, a different fire had begun to stir—one that didn’t just want justice.
It wanted more.
And as I turned off the light, letting the city hum lull me to sleep, I realized I was no longer chasing revenge alone.
I had an ally. A partner. Maybe even something more.
But first… I had a company to rebuild. A name to reclaim. And a legacy to write—on *my* terms.
Let the games begin.
- Writer
