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Pregnant And Fleeing The Ruthless Billionaire
img img Pregnant And Fleeing The Ruthless Billionaire img Chapter 7
7 Chapters
Chapter 9 img
Chapter 10 img
Chapter 11 img
Chapter 12 img
Chapter 13 img
Chapter 14 img
Chapter 15 img
Chapter 16 img
Chapter 17 img
Chapter 18 img
Chapter 19 img
Chapter 20 img
Chapter 21 img
Chapter 22 img
Chapter 23 img
Chapter 24 img
Chapter 25 img
Chapter 26 img
Chapter 27 img
Chapter 28 img
Chapter 29 img
Chapter 30 img
Chapter 31 img
Chapter 32 img
Chapter 33 img
Chapter 34 img
Chapter 35 img
Chapter 36 img
Chapter 37 img
Chapter 38 img
Chapter 39 img
Chapter 40 img
Chapter 41 img
Chapter 42 img
Chapter 43 img
Chapter 44 img
Chapter 45 img
Chapter 46 img
Chapter 47 img
Chapter 48 img
Chapter 49 img
Chapter 50 img
Chapter 51 img
Chapter 52 img
Chapter 53 img
Chapter 54 img
Chapter 55 img
Chapter 56 img
Chapter 57 img
Chapter 58 img
Chapter 59 img
Chapter 60 img
Chapter 61 img
Chapter 62 img
Chapter 63 img
Chapter 64 img
Chapter 65 img
Chapter 66 img
Chapter 67 img
Chapter 68 img
Chapter 69 img
Chapter 70 img
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Chapter 7

Jodi walked into her office, and the first thing she saw was Selah Pruitt sitting in her chair.

Selah had her feet propped up on the corner of the desk, casually scrolling through her phone as if she owned the place. It was a calculated act of dominance, and they both knew it.

Hearing Jodi enter, Selah slowly lowered her feet and stood, a wide, saccharine smile spreading across her face.

"Jodi! You made it," she chirped, her voice dripping with false concern. "You look a little pale. Was it a bad flu? Armand was so worried."

The casual, proprietary way she said his name was a deliberate jab. A territorial marking.

Jodi ignored it. She placed her handbag on the corner of the desk that Selah had just vacated. "Let's get started," she said, her voice flat. "We don't have all day."

She pulled the visitor's chair around and sat, opening her laptop. She was all business, her tone crisp and efficient as she began walking Selah through the daily schedules, the contact lists, the vendor accounts.

Selah pretended to listen, but her focus was elsewhere. She interrupted constantly, not with questions about the work, but with little verbal bombs designed to showcase her own status.

"Oh, is that a Nespresso machine? Armand prefers his Blue Mountain coffee hand-ground. He's so particular in the mornings."

A moment later, while pointing to the white orchid on the windowsill. "That's lovely. Did Armand get it for you? The tulips he sent me yesterday were flown in from Amsterdam."

Jodi continued on, her face impassive, her voice a steady monotone. She refused to engage, to acknowledge the pathetic attempts at psychological warfare. Her indifference was a more powerful weapon than any retort.

The breaking point came when they reached Armand's personal schedule.

Selah waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, I know most of this already. Armand and I were on the phone for hours last night going over it." She leaned in, her smile turning venomous. "He said he's looking forward to having someone around who's a bit more... considerate. Someone who knows how not to upset him."

The insult, so casually delivered, landed with precision. It wasn't just about coffee or flowers. It was a direct attack on Jodi's character, on the five years she had spent carefully navigating his moods.

Jodi stopped talking.

She slowly closed the lid of her laptop. The soft click echoed in the suddenly silent room.

She turned her body to face Selah directly. The polite, professional mask dropped. The look in her eyes was no longer weary or indifferent. It was ancient and cold and dangerous.

Selah's smile froze on her face. She instinctively shrank back in her chair.

"Ms. Pruitt," Jodi began, her voice quiet, but carrying the weight of a guillotine. "I am here to facilitate a professional handover. I am not here to listen to the highlight reel of your courtship."

She held up a single, elegant finger. "Let me give you some advice, since you're so new to this. First, Armand Taylor's tastes are fickle. The man who loves tulips today could develop a sudden, violent allergy to them tomorrow. Hinging your value on his passing preferences is the most amateur mistake you can make."

She raised a second finger. "Second, my value in this office was never about my ability to make coffee. It was about my ability to solve problems he didn't want to be bothered with. If all you bring to the table is knowing his breakfast order, you'll be replaced within three months. I guarantee it."

Jodi leaned forward slightly, her eyes locking onto Selah's. "Third, and most importantly, do not mistake my compliance for weakness. And do not ever try to play your petty, transparent games with me again. I survived in this building for five years not because I was sweet, but because every single person who tried to undermine me ended up cleaning out their desk."

Selah was chalk-white. The smug confidence had evaporated, replaced by raw, undisguised fear.

Jodi leaned back, her expression returning to one of cool detachment. She opened her laptop again. "Now, as I was saying. The Wexler Technology acquisition."

Selah could only nod, her throat working. She didn't say another word for the rest of the handover.

When they were finished, Jodi took a small, silver USB drive from her bag. "This is the final due diligence data set for Wexler. I've triple-checked the valuations. It's ready to be sent directly to the M&A department."

She held it out.

Selah took the drive, her fingers trembling slightly. As her hand closed around it, the fear in her eyes curdled into something else. A dark, resentful hatred.

A plan began to form in the ruins of her pride. A way to ensure the woman who had just humiliated her would not get to walk away so easily.

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