Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 135: Board Meeting II

The interior of the company was just as she had remembered.

And yet, standing there now, Gianna felt as though memory had softened the edges...

The lobby was larger than it had ever been in her mind, stretching upward with exposed steel beams and high glass panels that let in slabs of morning light. The concrete floor bore the quiet evidence of years of work—fine scratches, dull scuffs, the kind that came from boots that didn’t linger and machinery that never rested.

Framed blueprints lined one wall, yellowed with age, alongside photographs of completed projects: bridges, high-rises, foundations sunk deep into stubborn earth. Her father’s world, rendered in steel and sweat. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

The air hummed with movement. Phones rang in quick succession. Voices rose and fell in clipped exchanges. Keyboards clicked. Everyone seemed to be going somewhere, purpose stitched into their stride, eyes fixed ahead as if pausing might unravel the day.

Gianna felt momentarily out of place.

Then she heard it—the low, unmistakable growl of heavy machinery. Not a tractor, she corrected absently, but something larger, deeper. An excavator, maybe. The sound rolled in from beyond the building, mechanical, vibrating faintly through the structure.

She knew the company owned a vast stretch of land behind the building, fields dotted with equipment and half-built skeletons of future projects. Her father used to say that if you listened closely enough, you could hear progress breathing.

Her chest tightened. What am I doing here?

She knew nothing of construction. Nothing of permits, load-bearing calculations, supply chains. Her hands were trained for precision of another kind—for gems and symmetry, light and illusion.

This place was all blunt force and permanence. Yet here she stood, heels planted on concrete that had once borne her father’s footsteps.

Beside her, Ethan was already speaking to the receptionist. Calm. Assured. One hand resting casually on the counter, posture relaxed in the way of someone who belonged in rooms like this.

The receptionist nodded rapidly, professional smile in place, but her eyes kept darting—first to Gianna, then away, then back again.

Gianna noticed it then, noticed that the receptionist wasn’t the only one looking at her.

A few heads turned. Conversations dipped. People looked—some openly curious, others cautious.

She wondered if they knew her. Clement’s niece. The girl who stopped visiting with her mother, after her father’s death.

Her breath stuttered. She inhaled slowly, and straightened her spine. She met a few gazes head-on, daring and unflinching. One man blinked and quickly looked away.

A woman frowned, puzzled. Another’s eyes flicked past her to Ethan, recognition dawning there, respect following close behind. His portfolio always spoke before he ever did.

Gianna let the corners of her mouth firm. She wouldn’t shrink. Not today.

Ethan finished speaking, accepting a visitor badge without missing a beat. He glanced at her briefly, a silent check-in.

She gave a barely perceptible nod, fingers curling once at her side before relaxing again. Whether she belonged here or not, she was done asking permission to stand inside it.

"Let’s go."

Her attention snapped back to Ethan as he tilted his head toward the elevator.

"The meeting has already started," he continued once they stepped into the elevator that would carry them to the fourth floor, his tone easy, conversational.

"And your uncle is already here. Alone. Which makes sense. Bringing his family wouldn’t exactly help his case."

Gianna shot him a look. "You got all that from the receptionist?" Her brow arched faintly. "Is she your mole in the company, or should I call her your informant?"

Ethan shrugged, shoulders lifting with nonchalance. "Not really. I just... read rooms well." His mouth curved slightly. "And you seem to forget that I’m not exactly an ordinary businessman."

She let out a soft snort. "I’m beginning to think you’re just proud," she said dryly. "How did I never notice this before?"

A smirk tugged at Ethan’s lips as he glanced at her slyly from the corner of his eye. "You rarely see me handling business. Most of the time, we’re at informal events. No reason to sing my praises there."

Gianna shook her head, almost comically, just as the elevator chimed. Arrogant. Check.

The thought stayed in her mind as she stepped out behind him, watching his back as he led the way down the corridor with effortless authority. As far as she was concerned, he was spearheading this crash entirely.

Her heart rate, meanwhile, picked up with every step. She inhaled deeply, then again, trying to settle the nerves that had clawed their way back to the surface despite her earlier resolve.

"Hey—oh my God. Mr. Patterson..."

Gianna slowed, instantly assessing the situation.

An overzealous secretary, she concluded, watching the lady clutching a folder freeze mid-step, then blush, then—yes—actively fangirl.

She couldn’t even blame her.

She stayed quiet as Ethan slipped seamlessly into charm mode, his smile warm, his voice smooth as he explained that he’d been asked to attend the board meeting. That she was his assistant.

Lucky, Gianna thought, mildly impressed.

Somehow he’d guessed the lady didn’t know she was Clement’s niece—or that she was the infamous jeweler—or maybe the secretary was simply too finely tuned to Ethan to notice anything else.

Relief mingled with amusement as the lady, whom Gianna pegged as a new hire, pointed eagerly down the hall. "That’s where the meeting is taking place. Do have a nice day, Mr. Patterson. And if you need my help—"

Gianna bit back an eye roll as Ethan placed a hand on the lady’s shoulder.

The secretary fluttered her lashes shamelessly while he told her, with a straight face, that he would definitely need her help after the meeting, and that she should stick around.

"You’re both shameless," Gianna whispered once the girl disappeared.

"Had to be done." The warmth vanished from Ethan’s voice, replaced by something cold.

Business mode activated.

Gianna followed suit.

At the door, she inhaled again and again, steadying herself. She nodded when Ethan asked if she was ready.

He didn’t knock.

The silence inside hit first—abrupt, heavy, charged—made sharper by the fact that her uncle had clearly been mid-sentence.

Clement stared at her, confusion etched deep into his face. It only deepened when his gaze slid to Ethan.

"Gianna," he said slowly, warily. "What are you doing here?"

"I—" She opened her mouth, ready with the words she’d rehearsed.

Then her eyes snagged on a familiar face as she swept the room.

Noah?