Chapter 21
772 Words
Matt
I stood at the edge of my office window, phone clenched in my hand like it held the last ounce of control I had left.
The board meeting didn’t go how I expected.
I had spent weeks—months—building the perfect trap. Planting seeds of doubt, whispering suggestions to key colleagues, positioning Camille’s past like a loaded weapon just waiting to be triggered. The video? That was supposed to be the final blow. Something to cast her as unstable. Emotional. A liability.
But instead… it backfired.
Camille had flipped the entire narrative on its head. Took my trap and made it her soapbox. Instead of hiding in shame, she stood tall. Bold. Unapologetic.
And now she wasn’t the one being investigated.
I was.
“Sir,” my assistant’s voice cracked through the intercom. “Legal just called. You’re required to report to HR immediately.”
I didn’t respond. Didn’t move.
Instead, I watched the clouds roll past the city skyline, my jaw ticking in restrained fury.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
I'd always been the one pulling the strings—quietly, expertly, from behind polished smiles and boardroom charisma. Camille had been the one mistake I never fully corrected. I thought leaving her broken and silenced would be enough.
Clearly, I underestimated her.
---
In the HR conference room, I was met with a cold reception.
No coffee.
No handshake.
Just the head of HR, the legal rep, and two board members with manila folders stacked neatly in front of them.
“Mr. Donovan, we’ve reviewed Ms. Rivera’s evidence,” one of the board members began. “And we’ve conducted our internal audit of communications, digital footprints, and confidential reports. Your fingerprints are all over this.”
I leaned back, arms crossed. “With all due respect, I sent no such email directly. This sounds like a fabricated accusation—maybe even retaliation.”
The legal rep didn’t even blink. “Our IT forensics team matched the metadata from the email to a burner device registered to a shell account... which you set up years ago under the name Matthew D. Riley. You used that account once before—during the Sable merger negotiations. Ring a bell?”
My jaw twitched.
“Furthermore,” HR added, sliding over the file, “we have signed statements from two former employees who witnessed verbal abuse during your marriage to Ms. Rivera. One even confirms you bragged about having ‘insurance’ against her in case she ‘got out of hand.’”
My spine straightened. “You’re taking the word of a bitter ex-wife—”
“She’s not just an ex-wife,” the board member cut in sharply. “She’s our Senior Project Manager. And unlike you, she has an impeccable record with this company.”
There was a long pause. Tension thick enough to choke on.
“Effective immediately,” the HR rep continued, “you’re placed on unpaid leave pending a full investigation. Your access to all internal systems is revoked.”
I shot to his feet. “You can’t—”
“We can,” came the calm, final voice of the board member. “And if any additional harassment or retaliation occurs—legal or personal—you’ll be facing not only civil but criminal consequences.”
I stormed out, fists clenched.
---
By the time I returned to my penthouse, my phone had already lit up with texts from my lawyer, my father, and—surprisingly—Vivian.
Vivian:
“So… Camille went nuclear, huh? You didn’t tell me she had *that* in her.”
I didn’t respond.
Vivian:
“I warned you not to push her. You always think you’re the smartest in the room. Maybe not this time.”
I tossed the phone across the room, letting it shatter against the wall.
I poured myself a drink—top shelf, double shot of scotch—and stared at the headlines flashing on his TV:
“Corporate Harassment Scandal: Rising Exec Exposes Ex-Husband’s Abuse.”
“Camille Rivera Speaks Out: A Story of Survival and Power.”
“#StandWithCamille Trends Nationwide After Courageous Speech”
Mu name wasn’t even mentioned.
I was a ghost in her redemption arc.
No longer the villain worth naming.
And that… that stung more than anything.
Because I didn’t just want to ruin Camille—I wanted to be the center of her downfall.
But instead, she rose without me.
Enrique Salazar’s name popped up in one of the stories too—supportive partner, investor, and ally.
I seethed.
"So this is what it feels like to lose control."
---
- Writer
