Christian’s heart hammered violently against his ribs as he watched Roxanne glide across the carpeted floor. The world seemed to move in slow motion.

Richard stood up, towering over the head of the table, and calmly gestured to the leather chair directly to his right.

"Your seat, Miss Westbrook," Richard said, his rich baritone echoing through the microphone.

Christian’s face twisted into a heavy frown. That specific seat was reserved strictly for high-ranking corporate officials. Why on earth was Richard asking his housewife to sit there?

Oblivious to the chaotic thoughts spinning in Christian’s mind, Roxanne offered a cool, elegant smile as she sank into the plush leather right beside Richard.

The pressure in Christian’s head built until he felt like he was going to explode. He couldn’t stay quiet a second longer. He leaned far across the mahogany table, glaring at his wife.

"What the hell are you doing here, Roxy?" he demanded, his brow knitting tight. He quickly glanced around at Richard and the other board members, forcing a loud, hollow laugh to cover his panic. "Look, you don’t need to give her this kind of special recognition just because I’m about to be named CEO," he chuckled nervously.

A suffocating silence enveloped the room. Nobody smiled. Nobody laughed.

Then, a low wave of murmurs broke out across the long table.

One of the senior board members leaned forward, looking at Christian as if he had grown a second head. He let out a sharp, mocking scoff. "Where exactly did you get that idea, Westbrook? That you are becoming CEO?"

Christian froze, his pulse spiking beneath his skin. "Is that? Is that not why we are all here today?"

"No," the board member replied flatly.

The single word hit Christian like a freight train, knocking the breath clean out of his lungs. A cold sweat broke out across the back of his neck. What was he talking about? There had to be a mistake. A massive mistake.

"This meeting has absolutely nothing to do with appointing you to a CEO position," the board member added, his expression darkening at the absurdity of Christian’s expectations.

Christian’s chest heaved. He shifted his frantic, burning gaze back to his wife. "Then why are you sitting with the executive directors?" he snapped, his voice rising sharply, cracking the silence of the room. "Get up and leave right now, Roxanne. You don’t belong in this room. Go home!"

"You will speak to the executive directors with respect, Mr. Westbrook," Richard cut in. His voice was calm, but it was laced with a terrifying edge.

Christian looked at Richard, shaking his head in frantic denial, before turning right back to Roxanne. "Get out, Roxy," he said, trying to keep his voice level, though his hands were visibly shaking against the table.

Roxanne remained completely motionless. Her posture was perfect, her gaze fixed calmly ahead on Richard, utterly ignoring the man screaming across from her.

Christian lost the last shred of his control. He slammed his fist down onto the table with a deafening crack. "I’m talking to you, damn it! Get the hell out now!" he barked, the veins in his throat bulging violently against his tight collar.

Audible gasps erupted throughout the conference room. Reporters in the back gallery began whispering furiously.

Roxanne finally turned her head to look at him, her fingers curling into a tight fist against her lap, but she still didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to.

"This is the last time you will ever raise your voice at a senior ranking executive in my building," Richard spat through clenched teeth. His face was a mask of pure fury, his large knuckles whitening as he gripped the edge of the table. He flicked his eyes toward the heavy double doors. "Escort him out. Now."

Two large, armed security guards immediately moved, their heavy boots thudding against the carpet as they reached for Christian’s shoulders.

Roxanne suddenly turned to Richard, shaking her head softly. "No, please," she said, her voice smooth and completely steady despite the storm raging across the room. "I want him to stay."

Richard looked down at her, the hard corporate armor instantly melting from his eyes, leaving only a soft, protective warmth. "Are you certain?"

Roxanne nodded firmly. Christian stared at them, his face a pathetic mask of deep confusion and burning rage.

"Leave him," Richard commanded, dismissing the guards with a sharp wave of his hand. He turned his attention back to the rest of the board. "Let’s carry on."

A collective exhale rippled through the space as the tension settled into a suffocating simmer.

Christian’s nostrils flared, his chest heaving as he tapped his foot restlessly against the floor, trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

The chairman of the board stood up, adjusting his glasses as he faced the cameras. "We are incredibly pleased to introduce the newest member of the executive board," he paused, letting his eyes sweep across the room. "A woman whose work has already contributed enormously to this company."

Christian’s frantic gaze followed the chairman’s, desperately trying to catch a clue, any clue, of who was about to take the throne. Then, the chairman’s eyes landed squarely on Roxanne.

"Miss Roxanne Westbrook," the chairman announced loudly.

The entire room erupted into thunderous applause. Board members smiled, and camera flashes began illuminating the room in brilliant bursts of white light.

But Christian sat frozen, the blood draining completely from his face. The name hit him like a Category 5 hurricane. In a split second, his mind connected every single missing piece of the puzzle.

His eyes widened in pure horror as his mind flashed back to yesterday, Roxanne walking out of the HR office, her arriving home late smelling of expensive wine, her secret visits to Richard’s private office, her sudden confidence, and her knowing the exact minute of the eleven o’clock announcement. He glanced at the digital clock on the wall. It blinked 11:00 a.m.

"It was her," he murmured, the realization a sickening twist in his gut. The words were barely a breath. Then, his gaze snapped to her as his colleagues leaned over to shake her hand. "You bloody liar!" he roared, lunging across the table toward her.

"Throw him out!" multiple board members shouted, instantly rising from their seats in anger.

The security guards moved like lightning, grabbing Christian by his arms and pinning him back.

"Don’t you dare touch me!" Christian barked, thrashing violently against their iron grips, his expensive new suit wrinkling under their fingers. "I will not let this happen! Don’t you even think about setting foot in the penthouse ever again, Roxanne! Do you hear me? You have nothing!" he threatened, his voice cracking as they dragged him backward toward the exit.

The heavy doors had barely slammed shut behind his screaming voice before Roxanne turned back to the room, completely wiping his existence from her mind. She adjusted the microphone in front of her, her face radiating pure, effortless power.

"Thank you all for placing your confidence in me," she said calmly, her voice carrying beautifully over the speakers. "I understand the responsibility that comes with this position, and I intend to justify that confidence every single day. Together, we will strengthen this company, expand our reach, and ensure Vance Enterprises continues setting the standard in our industry."

Way down the corridor, the faint, desperate echo of Christian’s voice could still be heard. "Damn you, Roxanne!"

But inside the room, nobody was listening to him anymore.