Chapter 12
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She and Andrew had locked horns more times than she could count, and she never pulled punches just because he was older.
Aria wasn’t about to waste her breath on a lowlife like him. Spinning on her heel to leave, she barely made it a step before Andrew shuffled into her path, blocking her like a bad habit.
“What, too good to answer your elders now? Typical small–town trash. You’re not even in the same ballpark as Hannah,” he sneered, his voice oozing with that smug, know–it–all vibe.
The managers, dragged into this awkward standoff, stood stiff as boards, their eyes glued to anything but Aria. Even as she moved to bolt, the fear of their boss’s temper kept them frozen.
They didn’t have Andrew’s connections–or his guts–to take her on face–to–face.
Aria tipped her chin up, her gaze cool as a winter morning. “I could ditch Cole Group right now, and you’d still be a washed–up nobody. Now, be a good little lapdog and get the hell outta my way.”
Her words hit like a sucker punch, leaving everyone in the room stunned silent.
Aria had always been sharp–tongued, but this? This was straight–up ruthless–no filter, no holding back.
Andrew’s face twisted, his glare so vicious it could’ve peeled paint. “You think you can just walk? The Hayes Group contract’s still unsigned. You’re not done till it’s inked.”
That Hayes deal was one John Hancock away from done, and with Aria out, Andrew was practically salivating to steal the credit.
Too bad for him, he’d shown up at their office, contract in hand, and got the door slammed in his face.
Hayes Group didn’t play games: they’d only sign with Aria. No amount of sweet–talk or bonus profits could sway them.
Aria’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “I’m not with Cole Group anymore, genius. Your trainwreck of a deal’s none of my business.”
She took a step, but Andrew’s hand clamped onto her arm. The box she was holding slipped, crashing to the floor, her stuff scattering like confetti.
Aria’s head snapped up, her eyes blazing with a fury that could stop a heartbeat.
Andrew caught her glare and froze, like he’d just stepped on a rattlesnake. He stumbled back, voice wobbling but still cocky. “Y–you all, check her stuff! Make sure she didn’t lift anything from the company!”
Nobody moved. The room was so quiet one could hear a pin drop.
Andrew’s finger jabbed at the crowd. “What? The company pays you to-”
Before he could finish, Aria grabbed his arm and twisted it back with a quick, brutal snap.
“Argh!” His scream ricocheted down the hallway.
The employees, who’d been sneaking glances since Aria strutted in, didn’t bother pretending anymore–they gawked openly.
There was Andrew crumpled on his knees, his hand bent at a nauseating angle.
His face was a sweaty, pain twisted mess as he shrieked for an ambulance, for the cops, his voice so shrill it could shatter glass.
Aria, crouched down scooping up her spilled belongings, shot him a look that could freeze fire. “Keep whining, and I’ll yank your jaw off next. Wanna bet!
won’t
Andrew zipped it, pronto.
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15:08 Mon, 26 May MT.
Chapter 12
Seeing him like this sent a quiet thrill through the crowd.
As a Cole family crony, Andrew had been a royal pain for years, throwing his weight around and making everyone’s life miserable.
Whenever he crossed the line, they’d turn to Aria. She was tough as hell but had their backs.
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Once, when a female coworker got drugged and strong–armed into a client dinner, Aria didn’t hesitate–she sent the sleaze responsible straight to the ICU.
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Not every guy in the office was Team Aria, but the women? They’d go to war for her.
With her around, they worked their tails off, no questions asked. But now… she was out the door.
A few women who’d been chewed up by Andrew swapped glances, their minds racing.
“Ms. Saxon’s gone, and Andrew’s gonna turn this place into a nightmare. I’m done,” one whispered.
“Better to bail now than wait for them to pin some garbage on us and shove us out. I’m out too,” another said, nodding.
Aria finished gathering her things, propped the box on her hip, and leveled Andrew with a stare colder than a January night. “Mr. Marshall, I’m done with Cole Group, and I don’t give a rat’s ass what happens to it–or your pathetic little schemes.
“Stay outta my way, and we’re square. Come at me again, and I’ll have a nice little present sent straight to Daniel.”
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