Chapter 3

James tossed the slim folder onto the desk beside the main portfolio. "Good. That's settled then." He turned to Olivia, his expression softening. "This office will be yours soon enough, Liv."

Olivia beamed, her gaze sweeping around the opulent study as if already measuring for new drapes.

"There's one more thing, James," Olivia said, her voice now firm, addressing him but her eyes flicking towards me. "If Eleanor is no longer Chief Designer, and no longer leading the City Center project, then she shouldn't be occupying the penthouse apartment in the Harrington Tower anymore. It's a company asset, for senior executives."

My apartment. A stunning duplex I had personally designed, with panoramic views of Central Park. It was part of my compensation package, yes, but it was also my home for the last fifteen years.

James didn't even look at me. He nodded curtly. "She'll vacate by the end of the week."

"And all company perks," Olivia pressed on, a cruel little smile playing on her lips. "The car, the club memberships, the expense accounts. A clean break, wouldn't you agree, James darling?"

James finally turned his head, his eyes cold and dismissive. "Consider it done."

Alistair looked pained but remained silent. He was abdicating, not just his role, but his conscience.

I felt a cold knot tighten in my stomach, but my face remained impassive.

"A clean break," I repeated softly. I looked at James, truly looked at him. The man I had loved, the man I had built a life with, twice. "Is that what you want, James?"

He avoided my gaze, staring at a point over my shoulder. "It's for the best, Eleanor."

Silence. Heavy, suffocating.

Then I laughed. A short, dry sound.

Both James and Olivia looked startled. Alistair flinched.

"Alright," I said, my voice clear and steady. "Let's talk about clean breaks."

I walked over to the large window overlooking the city skyline. Many of those buildings, I had designed.

"When I joined Harrington Holdings as an intern, straight out of Columbia Architecture, this company was primarily a regional property developer. Solid, respectable, but not a major player."

I turned back to face them.

"My first solo project, the Azure Tower, increased its land value by 300% before it even broke ground. The Waterfront Revitalization project, which everyone said was impossible, generated over two billion in profit and won three international awards, putting Harrington Holdings on the global map."

I ticked them off on my fingers. "The Museum of Modern Art extension. The Apex Convention Center. The Serenity Beach Resort chain. The list goes on. Over twenty years, my designs have directly contributed to an increase in Harrington Holdings' brand value and market capitalization by, conservatively, seventy billion dollars."

Alistair shifted uncomfortably. James's jaw was tight. Olivia looked momentarily stunned by the figures.

"You 'groomed' me, Mr. Harrington," I said, my gaze locking with Alistair's. "And I repaid that investment a hundredfold. We are more than even. We owe each other nothing."

I walked to the small console table by the door. I unclasped the Cartier watch from my wrist – a company anniversary gift. I placed it on the polished surface. Next to it, I laid down the keys to the company-provided Audi A8.

Then, I reached for the buttons on my Chanel jacket. It was part of the wardrobe allowance for senior female executives. I slipped it off. Underneath, I wore a simple black shell top. I folded the jacket neatly and placed it on the table.

My heels, Manolos, also company-provided. I slipped them off.

I stood before them in my simple top, a plain skirt I'd worn to the office that morning, and barefoot on the expensive Persian rug.

"From this moment," I said, my voice ringing with a finality that surprised even myself, "I am just Eleanor Baker. An independent architect."

I turned and walked out of the study, leaving them in stunned silence.