Chapter 4

I laughed. The sound was light and free. I was sitting on a plush leather sofa in Brock's penthouse, a glass of champagne in my hand, looking out over the glittering city skyline.

"That's not my home anymore, Donte," I said calmly.

There was a moment of stunned silence on his end. He hadn't expected this composure.

His tone shifted, becoming menacingly soft. "Kinsley, don't do this. You know what happens when you make me angry."

"I'm resigning from the firm, Donte," I stated, cutting him off. "My official resignation will be on your desk tomorrow morning."

Then I hung up.

I raised my glass to Brock. "To new beginnings," I said. He clinked his glass against mine, his eyes sharp and understanding.

The next morning, I walked into the offices of Boyd & Wagner Architects. The place felt alien, a monument to my stolen work.

I came face-to-face with Bria in the hallway. She blocked my path, a smug smirk on her face.

"So, the queen has returned to her castle?" she sneered. "I heard you're resigning. Running away with your tail between your legs?"

Her smile was pure venom.

"You know, Donte was with me last night after you left," she purred, stepping closer. "He said he was so relieved you were gone. He said touching you felt like touching a corpse."

Something snapped. Before I could think, my hand flew out and connected with her cheek. The slap echoed in the quiet hallway.

"You are a shameless, pathetic homewrecker," I spat, my voice shaking with rage.

Bria stared at me, stunned for a second, before her face twisted in fury. She lunged at me, nails out, screaming.

Suddenly, a powerful force yanked me backward by my hair. My head snapped back and hit the hard corner of a wall. Pain exploded behind my eyes, and the world swam in a dizzying haze.

Through the blur, I saw Donte. He stood over me, his face a mask of pure fury. In his hand was a clump of my hair.

Judd and Griselda appeared at the end of the hall, drawn by the commotion.

Bria, seizing the opportunity, scrambled to her feet and ran to them, crying hysterically. "She attacked me! Mr. Boyd, Mrs. Wagner, she just attacked me for no reason!"

"You vicious shrew!" Griselda shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at me. "You are a disgrace to this family!"

"I knew we never should have let Donte marry you!" Judd added, his face purple with rage.

Donte glared down at me, his chest heaving. "Why did you attack her? Why?" he demanded. "I'm divorcing you! Is that what you want to hear?"

I looked at their faces-the united front of liars and abusers-and I felt nothing but a cold, clear certainty.

I pushed myself up, ignoring the throbbing pain in my head.

"Yes," I said, my voice steady. "Get the papers. Now."

Donte, furious at my lack of remorse, barked at his assistant to have the firm's lawyer draw up the divorce papers immediately.

They were on his desk in minutes.

He held the pen and paper out to me like a king offering a pardon. "This is your last chance, Kinsley. Apologize to Bria, and we can forget this ever happened."

I snatched the documents from his hand before he could finish. His eyes widened in shock.

Without hesitation, I signed my name. The cut on my head had started to bleed, a single drop falling onto the page. I pressed my thumb into the blood and stamped my print next to my signature.

"You are no longer a Boyd," Griselda declared, her voice triumphant. "And I will make sure no respectable firm in this city ever hires you again. You're finished."

Just then, the glass doors to the office slid open. A sleek, black Bentley pulled up to the curb.

Brock Solomon stepped out. He was tall, impeccably dressed, and radiated an aura of calm power that made Donte look like a petulant child.

"I don't think so, Griselda," Brock said, his voice cutting through the tension. "Because Kinsley Cooper is no longer looking for a job."

He walked over to me, gently touched my injured head, and then looked at the Boyds with cold fury. "She's my firm's new head of design."