Chapter 529:

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“Fine. You want to play this way? Fine.” His voice shook with fury. “The company’s stock is already volatile because of your scandals. The board will not tolerate a rogue executive who poses a catastrophic risk to our shareholders. You’ve made your choice. Now wait for the consequences. I’ll have you impeached by the end of the week.”

He didn’t mention Cheyanne. He didn’t mention his own failures. He twisted the narrative, painting her as the sole source of chaos, the cancer in the corporate body.

Allison listened, her heart going hard and cold. In all his ranting, there was not a single word of concern. He hadn’t asked if she was okay. He hadn’t shown a shred of the familial duty he was so fond of preaching. Only the stock price. Only power. Only his own skin.

The last foolish ember of hope for some connection, some sliver of shared humanity, was extinguished.

She looked at the red-faced, sputtering man who had stolen her life and felt nothing but vast, empty pity.

𝘙o𝗆𝖺𝗻𝖼e 𝗻𝘰𝘷𝘦l𝗌 𝗼𝗇 𝗀аlnо𝘃е𝗅ѕ.𝗰𝗈𝘮

“Are you finished? If so, please leave my home.”

Her calm was more insulting than any scream. It denied him the reaction he craved. It rendered his threats meaningless.

Baker stared, speechless, choking on his own rage. He gave a final, venomous glare, spun on his heel, and stormed out, slamming the door so hard a picture rattled on the wall.

The moment the lock clicked, the strength drained out of Allison. She sagged into the sofa cushions, a puppet with its strings cut.

It wasn’t the threats that had undone her. It was the absolute, soul-crushing coldness, the final, undeniable confirmation that to her own family, she was not a person, but a problem to be managed or eliminated.

She curled into a ball on the sofa, pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face. The silence pressed in, amplifying her loneliness.

Her personal phone rang. Emilee.

“Allie. My God, I just saw the news. Are you okay? What the hell is happening?” Emilee’s voice was frantic, warm.

A lump formed in Allison’s throat. Hearing genuine concern almost broke her. “I’m fine, Em. Don’t worry,” she managed, her own voice sounding thin. She made a quick excuse and hung up, unable to bear speaking, unable to let her friend hear the cracks in her armor.

The silence returned, heavier than before.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, lost in a gray fog, until a quiet voice broke the stillness. “Ms. Montgomery. You have an incoming video call from Mr. Kensington.”

She looked up at the tablet he held out. Adam’s face filled the screen. Pale, tired, but his eyes were sharp, focused entirely on her, filled with deep, unmistakable worry.

The sight of him, the raw concern etched on his features, was the final blow to her crumbling defenses. The fortress she had maintained all day, through the media storm and the corporate battles and the familial hatred, collapsed.

She said nothing. She just looked at him, and silent tears streamed down her face.

Adam saw the tears, and it felt as if a hand had reached through the screen and squeezed the air from his lungs. He would rather face a dozen assassins in a dark garage than witness the silent collapse of her composure.

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