Chapter 1-2
1595 Words
Anthony Bertram, billionaire CEO of Bertram, Sons, and Co., was having a very bad day.
It had started a few weeks ago. A few innocuous posts on social media—nothing new there. The Internet was a vast cesspool of nonsensical opinions. Anthony never paid attention to people blathering about s**t they knew nothing about, especially in regard to Bertram, Sons, and Co.
Until one post had suddenly caught fire and been shared over fifty million times, making the company out to be some evil villain intent on animal torture. Newspapers and blogs and news stations had been calling the company nonstop. And Anthony had watched, rage pulsing through him, as his company’s stock had slid down, down, down, and the boycotts against their products had only intensified.
Anthony wasn’t about to let some hippie freaks who conflated animal testing with actual torture destroy what he’d built. He would go down fighting, and by God, he’d take those bastards down with him, too.
By midmorning, Anthony already had a headache. He’d been dodging email after email, phone call after phone call, about this PR nightmare. His board wanted a meeting immediately to discuss what to do.
Anthony was already on edge when Bruce Weaver came barreling into his office. Bruce was a member of Anthony’s board and one of his first shareholders. Although they’d once had a respectful business partnership, things had soured after Anthony had fired Bruce’s son Ryan a year ago. Anthony hadn’t regretted the decision one bit, but Bruce had made a point to make Anthony’s life hell as a result. This new development had given Bruce plenty of ammunition.
Anthony motioned for Bruce to sit, a thoroughly ironic gesture. “You wanted to discuss something?”
Of course Bruce would just come barging into his office, as opposed to sending a reply to Anthony’s email like a normal person.
“Once again, I would advise you to do nothing about this kerfuffle,” said Bruce, ignoring Anthony’s invitation to sit. “You’ll be making a huge mistake by giving these people the satisfaction of being noticed.”
“Considering I’ve already talked about it in the media, I fail to see how another interview would hurt.”
“You think you know everything, don’t you? You may be the CEO, but that doesn’t make you a dictator, either. You’re going to hurt this company irrevocably with your actions.”
“And I say that the current strategy is the reason why we’ve lost millions already.”
Bruce pointed a finger at him. “Don’t think that you’re immune, Bertram. The same people who made you CEO can take you down. Remember that.”
Anthony didn’t rise to the bait. Shrugging, as if Bruce had just suggested they go golfing, he replied, “Do as you wish. You aren’t the board.”
Bruce scowled before marching out of Anthony’s office.
Anthony’s assistant Cara, whose desk was right outside Anthony’s office, stood up when Bruce stormed out. Her eyes widened.
Coming to stand by Anthony’s door, she opened her mouth, ostensibly to ask a question, when he cut her off. “Has Society sent over the draft yet for the article?”
“Oh, oh, yes. They just did,” she stammered.
“Send it over. I want to get this out.”
Cara was smart enough not to comment on Anthony’s choice to continue against what the board—aka Bruce—thought the PR strategy should be. If Bruce wants me out, then he’ll have a hell of a fight to get there, Anthony thought.
After Anthony, Bruce held the most shares in the company, but Bruce would need more than half the board to agree before they could vote Anthony out. Bruce would have an uphill battle to manage that particular coup.
Anthony was just glad that he was going away from the city for a while very soon. He’d rented a cabin up in the woods months ago before all of this had started. He was tempted to leave right now, and hell to everyone who thought they knew better than him how to run his own company.
It was late in the afternoon when Anthony’s office door opened. “Have you heard of knocking?” he barked, thinking it was another rogue board member.
“Is that any way to greet your ex-wife?” a dulcet voice asked.
Anthony smelled her floral scent before he saw her. He’d always know that scent. Elise still wore the same perfume he’d bought her for their first wedding anniversary even though they’d been divorced for two years already. Anthony had a feeling she did it simply to irritate him.
This s**t day’s going from bad to worse, he thought sourly. He didn’t get up at Elise’s entrance, and he didn’t offer her a seat, either. She didn’t deserve the courtesy.
Cara burst into his office. “Mr. Bertram, I’m sorry, I told her you were busy—”
“I’m sure you did,” he interrupted. “Cara, please close the door behind you.”
When his office door closed with a click, Anthony returned to the documents on his desk, not remotely interested in giving Elise the attention she craved. If she wanted something—which she most certainly did—she would have to tell him herself.
He heard her sit down across from him in the same seat that Bruce had refused to use. Why is today the day everyone seems intent on bursting into my office? he thought darkly. He X’ed out some numbers on the paper in front of him with a bit more force than necessary.
Elise clucked her tongue at him.
Glancing up, Anthony couldn’t help but notice that despite everything, she was still beautiful. Damn her.
Wearing an emerald-green dress that showed off every curve yet somehow remained demure, Elise exuded s*x appeal in a deceptively simple package. She never wore red lipstick—only pinks and pale plums. She preferred to put her hair up rather than leaving it down, the honey-colored strands soft as silk and the color completely natural. Her sweet façade had been what had attracted Anthony in the first place. It had only been later that he’d seen her capacity for inflicting pain.
“Is this how you treat guests?” she asked, amused. “I thought I’d taught you better manners than that.”
He set his pen down and waited, a dark eyebrow raised. Like he’d thrown down a gauntlet, Elise then set her purse, a small clutch with gold trim, on his desk. Anthony knew that he hadn’t bought her that purse, so Ryan must have. The thought made him want to punch Ryan Weaver all over again.
Not because Anthony still loved Elise. Far from it. The moment he’d caught her cheating on him with Ryan, who also happened to be his former vice president and best friend, his heart had turned to stone. He’d divorced her before she could explain why she’d decided screwing his then–best friend had been a good idea. No, he’d hated that the two of them had made him look like a fool, that they’d conducted their affair right under his nose.
He would never let anyone make a fool of him again.
He couldn’t help but notice the giant diamond on Elise’s finger along with the wedding band. She’d gotten Ryan to marry her quickly, that was for sure.
“Why won’t you answer my texts? I’ve texted, called, emailed. Is your phone dead?” asked Elise. She pushed her bottom lip forward in a pout.
Anthony laughed darkly. “I hate to break it to you, but I was ignoring you. Now, unless you have something you actually need to tell me, get out. I have work to do.”
To his immense annoyance, she laughed. “You’re such a brute, Tony. You always were.” Her eyes sparkled.
He gritted his teeth at the sound of her calling him Tony. She was the only one who’d ever used that name with him, and now hearing it on her lips only made him hate her more.
“You always were terrible at compliments,” he said.
“Only because you’re worse at them,” she countered. Probably realizing his patience was at an end, she said, “I want more money, Tony.”
He snorted. “Of course you do. The thousands I paid you already to keep your mouth shut wasn’t enough?” He gestured toward the giant ring on her finger.
She flushed, covering her left hand. “You know very well that your lawyer screwed me over, and it’s not enough to support me.” Her voice was stiff to the point of sounding prissy.
“Ryan doesn’t give you money?”
She stiffened. Anthony hadn’t meant to bring up her latest husband, but with Elise, his self-control tended to dissipate.
“He doesn’t give me money because he’s still out of work. Because of you.” Her eyes narrowed. “I want more money.”
“Or what? You’ll f**k another man while we’re married?” Anthony sneered. “Wait, you already did that.”
Elise’s cheeks turned bright red. “You ass,” she hissed, standing and grabbing her purse. “This is why I left you. You’re heartless. A brute, less than human—”
“I distinctly recall that I divorced you after I found you naked in our bed. With another man.”
The memory of that moment had forever seared itself onto Anthony’s mind. He pushed the memory away, refusing to allow Elise to sink her claws into him again.
“I want more money, or I’m going to the press and telling them everything,” she said.
Slowly standing up, Anthony rounded his desk and towered over Elise. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said silkily. “You don’t have the balls to ruin your reputation like that.”
“Do you want to chance it?”
Her voice wavered, and he knew she was bluffing. Disgusted, he pointed to the door. “Get out of my office. If I see you in my building again, I’ll have security toss you out.”
Her spine went ramrod straight. “Fine. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer, then.”
Anthony didn’t even flinch when Elise slammed his office door behind her.
- Writer
