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Chapter 113
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2025-07-31 19:42:41
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Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce Chapter 115
ANTHONY’S POVIt had been almost a month.Enough time to prepare the real pitch. Not the one that had gone out prematurely—the butchered draft that never should’ve left our servers. This one was tighter. Leaner. Every slide exactly where it needed to be. No fluff. No noise.Zenith was ready.The Harvest Bloom file sat open on my desk. Their supply chain map. Their tiered pricing strategy. Their retail footprint in Switzerland and Austria. Every move they made was small, deliberate, airtight. No expansion just for the sake of it.Looking at them, I knew they weren’t chasing numbers, because they didn’t need to at this point. It was all about curating and preserving their identity. Which meant I had to be more than persuasive. I had to be undeniable.Mark stood by the desk, tablet in hand. He was walking me through the final logistics of our London trip, the schedule fine-tuned to the hour. Accommodations, drivers, meeting prep. All accounted for.He paused mid-sentence. “Still no upda
Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce Chapter 114
OSTARA’S POVAt exactly 11:00AM, the glass door to my meeting room opened.He stepped in like he owned the air.“Ms. Ostara?” he said, offering a charming smile that didn’t try too hard. “I hope I’m not too late.”“You’re right on time,” I replied.Peter Banducci extended his hand. A firm grip. Too warm. His suit was Italian-cut, naturally. Crisp blue with subtle pinstripes, the kind men chose when they wanted to look expensive without appearing loud. His cufflinks gleamed discreetly. His shoes had no scuffs.But it was the eyes—gray, quick, measuring—that told me the suit was a costume.I gestured toward the seats. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”Peter settled across from me, elbows resting lightly on the table. He looked around the room as though he’d been here before.Then, glancing back at me, he asked casually, “Will the founder be joining us today?”“She won’t,” I said, not missing a beat. “I lead executive operations. All final decisions go through me.”He didn’t blink. Di
Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce Chapter 113
OSTARA’S POV“Go on, open it. I want to laugh!”Davina was already halfway doubled over on the sofa, grinning at me like I was about to show her a leaked royal scandal.I shook my head. “I don’t want to. It was awful. I deserve better.”We were in my office above the Harvest Bloom labs—a calm, curated space of glass, pale wood, and polished marble. Donna had just fallen asleep on the small sofa in the corner, wrapped in her cartoon-print blanket, blissfully unaware her mother was wheezing over someone else’s corporate disaster.I turned the tablet screen toward Davina one more time, flashing her the deck from Zenith.The first one.She shrieked again. “Oh my God, this font! Who uses this? Why is there a quote from Oprah next to a stock image of a Hershey’s bar?”“She’s not wrong,” I said, laughing despite myself.Davina clapped her hand over her mouth. “Ostara. I swear. I wish Donna were old enough to understand why this is so funny. I want to pass this down.”I tilted my head. “It’s
Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce Chapter 112
ANTHONY’S POV“Pull the logs again.”Mark didn’t flinch. “That’s the third time this morning.”"Then make it four."He didn’t argue. He tapped rapidly on his tablet, blue light reflecting off his glasses. Across my office, the large glass windows showed nothing but a flat, white sky. The kind that offered no sun, no shadow—just absence.The Zenith folder sat unopened on the desk between us. The real one. The deck we’d actually prepared. The one I’d spent weeks refining. Every line tailored. Every brand alignment plotted. Every pitch bullet proofed.And it would never see the light of day.Because someone had fired the gun too early. With a rubber bullet.“Still nothing,” Mark said finally. “No internal flags. No logins from unauthorized IPs. Whoever sent that proposal used the catch-all Zenith account from inside the building.”I leaned back in my chair. My jaw ached from clenching.“Could be a junior,” he added, a little too lightly. “Someone trying to impress you.”“Then they’re an
Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce Chapter 111
NATALIE’S POVThe breakroom, for once, did not have chattering old birds sharing gossip like it was the last crumb in the jungle.Silence.Not serene. Not peaceful. Just... still. Like something had died in there.I stood by the window, stirring my coffee with the kind of dramatic indifference that only comes from being snubbed. The park behind the Möller Industries office shimmered under an overcast sky, gray clouds hanging low like judgment. A woman jogged along the gravel path, ponytail bouncing in rhythm, earbuds tucked in. Free. Focused.Unlike me.I tapped the side of my cup, watching the foam settle. “Why did he throw me out?” I muttered under my breath.New companies don’t break into the market by playing it safe. They need angles. Maneuvers. People willing to stretch boundaries, not just color inside the lines.I was the person willing to get my hands dirty. Break the rules. Be cunning. And Anthony had stuck me in Public Relations.The softest, fluffiest corner of the build
Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce Chapter 110
ANTHONY’S POVI’d worked in procurement for years without ever realizing how little I actually enjoyed it. Hospitals, clinics, surgery centers—it was always about scale and volume, logistics and bottom lines. Precision was everything. Humanity? Optional.Zenith was the opposite of that.Or at least, that was the idea.A boutique import firm focused solely on luxury—edible luxury, to be exact. Confectionery, rare teas, artisan honeys, heritage cheeses… Harvest Bloom was just the beginning.But I wasn’t deluded. I knew I had no business playing merchant to the gods until I understood the market. So I didn’t.Not yet.I’d turned my office at Möller Industries into my own personal war room. On my desk, the Zenith folder lay open—its letterhead embossed but discreet. A simple name for something that had become anything but.No board. No external shareholders. Just me.And Mark, of course. The only one I trusted to recruit the best of the best at Möller to help me. That, of course, did
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