Chapter 8
237words
Colleagues exchanged nervous glances, and hushed conversations died as I passed.
"On what grounds did she reject my proposal?" an angry male voice boomed from the adjacent meeting room. "Just because she's got the Blake family name?"
My stomach dropped. Marcus Weber.
"Marcus, please," another voice pleaded, "Ivy must have valid reasons for her decision..."
"What reasons?" Weber shouted. "The ROI projections are crystal clear, and the risk management is solid. She's just throwing her family weight around to block me!"
I took a deep breath and strode toward the meeting room.
When Weber spotted me in the doorway, his lips curled into a sneer.
"Well, well. The princess finally graces us with her presence," he said, leaning back with crossed arms. "Come to survey the damage you've caused?"
"Mr. Weber," I said, fighting to keep my voice steady, "we can discuss this privately."
"There's nothing to discuss privately," he snapped, rising to his feet. "Everyone should hear how this Association is run. A powerless little girl can overrule seasoned veterans just because her last name is Blake."
The room fell into a suffocating silence.
Weber stalked toward me, his voice dropping to a menacing growl:
"One last chance, Ivy Blake. Either approve my project, or force the Association to fire me."
