Mimi's heart hammered in her chest as she watched Simeon charge toward the front of the room, his small fists shaking furiously. Before she could even notice the movement, he threw the cake box forward, causing its contents to tumble out with a horrible splash. The once-perfect, silky frosting splattered across the glass divider, the crimson icing streaming down in blood-like jagged patterns.
There was a startled stillness in the room. As Mimi watched the mess unfold in slow time, her breath stopped in her throat as the cake slid down the surface. Every second felt like it was dragging on as the insanity of the moment took hold. The smooth, immaculate walls of the boardroom suddenly appeared to be a harsh parody of the reality that was collapsing.
Simeon stood motionless, his little face twisted with the unfiltered emotion of a child who had just seen something innocent destroyed. His chest ached as he gazed at the devastation he had caused—the remains of a party transformed into an unforgivable act of rebellion.
There was no more laughter in the room than there had been a few moments before. Cameras that had previously taken the ideal picture of CrossCorp's new power couple now turned to watch what was happening in front of them. Executives and staff looked on in disbelief as the boy stood there, his fists clinched, his eyes fixed on Scarlett and James with a mix of grief and rage.
Mimi felt as though her feet were stuck to the floor, but she wanted to reach for him and pull him back from the scene's edge. She was only able to observe as the consequences of this public humiliation spread, the cake's impact bearing down on her breast.
The silence in the boardroom was thick and oppressive, as if the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. The debris and the moment of defiance were captured by the frantic camera clicking. Mimi sensed that everyone was watching her, and she could feel the pressure of criticism. Nobody talked, nobody moved.Everyone was waiting for someone to respond.
James's body froze in amazement as he stood there, his eyes fixed on the cake's impact site. Scarlett, however, had already calmed down, her lips forming a faint, hardly noticeable smile, as though she had foreseen this. Her grasp slowly tightened on James' arm as her eyes darted to him, perhaps to make her claim known to the world.
With her heart pounding, Mimi moved forward and extended her hand to Simeon. When she spoke, her voice was tremulous. "Honey, Simeon. Let's head out.
Simeon was not listening, though. His eyes were flaming with a mixture of betrayal and rage, and he held his ground, his little chest rising and sinking with each breath. When it did come, his voice was distinct and booming. My dad is that! My mother is that!
A hushed murmur swept through the room. The people who had all assembled to watch Scarlett's reign begin, the power brokers at CrossCorp, exchanged anxious and perplexed looks. Some looked at Scarlett, some at James, and some even at Mimi, as though they were trying to figure out what had just transpired.
The sting of humiliation burned Mimi's skin as her cheeks flushed with shame. But there was something more below it all. anything more profound. She had been too scared to speak the truth, but Simeon had just done it. The truth, however, was a deadly weapon in this chamber. Scarlett's lovely, sarcastic voice echoed, "Poor thing." “You appear disoriented.”
James stayed put. He said nothing. He appeared to be still as he watched the mayhem play out without taking any action to halt it. Mimi could feel her own rage building, bitter and burning, in her chest. It was more than just a cake. Control was the issue. It was about her life—her family—being gradually taken from her by the woman in front of her, who showed off her triumph without hesitation.
Simeon was still clenching his little hands, and his face was flushed from fighting back tears. He said it again, more angrily, "That's my dad," his words piercing the tension like a call for assistance.
Scarlett smirked without faltering as her gaze shifted to him. Absolutely, sweetheart. "Your dad," she murmured sweetly, her tone brimming with phony love. "But not in your memory of him."
James's lips were parted, but no sound came as his gaze shifted from Scarlett to Mimi. In front of his own son's outburst, the weight of the occasion suffocated him and rendered him silent. He lacked his typical poise and the unwavering assurance of a CEO who had mastered boardrooms and power clashes. The only things left in the room were the residual tension and quiet.
Simeon's little, irate voice rang out, piercing the oppressive silence and demanding that the truth—which neither Scarlett nor James appeared prepared to face—be acknowledged for what had just transpired. James moved ahead a step. Something transient, like remorse but also dread, was written on his face, and Mimi could see the internal fight. Her once-completely trusted man, the focal point of their existence, stood still. Mimi thought he may say anything for a second when his eyes met hers. Act. However, he did not.
Rather, he looked away, his eyes darting to Scarlett as though he was looking for her approval, the validation he no longer could find in her. With her hand resting possessively on James's arm and her triumphant stare, Scarlett grinned and helped him return to the part she had set out for him.
Mimi felt her chest constrict. I couldn't stand the cowardice. In Scarlett's hands, James had turned into a puppet incapable of speaking or standing up for what was right in the face of his son's fury and everything he had once stood for. Her breath came in short gasps as the weight of everything fell upon her. Seeing him like this, so completely defeated, was like watching a piece of herself die, even though she had always known he was going away.
Mimi's palm shook as she tightened her grip on Simeon, her fingers shaking. She took a step back, away from the confusion, away from the humiliation in front of others, away from the dread that threatened to overwhelm her, and pulled him close without saying a word. With the world weighing down on her shoulders, she turned her back on Scarlett and James, and the camera flashes felt like daggers now, cutting through the air.
Simeon felt her anguish and gripped her hand tightly, his little body shaking next to hers. He said in a tiny but ferocious voice, "Mom," "Why is Dad letting her do this?"
Unable to shove down the knot in her throat, Mimi swallowed. She was unable to provide him with a response or reassuring words to clear the confusion in his eyes. She could only take his hand, feel his tiny fingers twitch around hers, and move toward the elevator, one step at a time, in the hopes of a brief, if brief, escape. She caught one last look at Scarlett and James as she looked over her shoulder. With her eyes glimmering with something dark and gratifying, Scarlett's smile was a firm, victorious twist of the lips. Once warm and loving, James's eyes were now vacant, his focus split between Scarlett and the devastation he had just seen.
The betrayal was too painful for Mimi to handle, and her heart broke again. With her eyes burning with the fear of tears she would not cry in front of the throng, she glanced toward the elevator for a final glimpse of the man she had loved.
They closed the doors behind them, but the harm was already done. It weighed heavily on her chest to realize that she was no longer a part of that world. The sound of quick footsteps, however, reverberated down the corridor as the doors started to close entirely. The turmoil and the sight of the cake smash had attracted the attention of the reporters, who had noticed them. It was like a kick to Mimi's stomach to realize that they were still under the public's scrutiny and that they weren't yet free.
A barrage of light bursts and yelled queries came from all sides before the doors had a chance to close. Cameras and microphones buzzed about them, all focused on the story they were now a part of. "Mimi, is it true that your marriage is over?" "James, is this the end of your family?"
Mimi's heart pounded as the questions poured in, each one more incisive than the previous. Feeling Simeon's petite frame against hers, she drew him in closer. But before she could even respond, Scarlett's voice broke through the crowd's cacophony.
"Some people simply don't know when to let go," Scarlett stated in a venomous tone. She was standing on the boardroom threshold, staring at Mimi with that same triumphant, mocking smirk. Mimi's stomach sank with her heart. The challenge was tossed into the air, daring her to fight, and she could feel the weight of the words sinking into her bones. Mimi, however, remained silent. No, she couldn't. Not now, not here.
They were removed from the turmoil by the gentle thud of the elevator doors, but the tension was still there, heavy and thick. As Scarlett's comments replayed in her head, Mimi could only cling to Simeon and hope that they would weather this storm together.
Jaxon knelt on one knee in front of him, his large figure filling the room and shadows hanging to his jaw's hard features. He whispered softly, "You don't have to be scared anymore." His voice had a steady, heavy weight. Simeon's lips shook. The room was quiet for a long time. Then, in a voice so faint it almost shattered, he said, "Dad." The air became cold. Mimi's palm rushed to her mouth, and tears fell before she could stop them. The word lingered in her mind: fragile, unproven, and heavier than any promise she had ever heard. Jaxon's chest went up quickly. For a moment, the tough man appeared like he was going to fall apart, as if the ground had moved beneath him. He stretched out, and his fingers shook as it touched the boy's shoulder. "You mean that?" His voice broke, without warning. Simeon nodded, and a small smile broke through. "Yeah... Dad." Mimi couldn't help but cry then, shielding her face as the sound of that word—so normal, so awful—washed over her. Jaxon's mo
He said, "Mimi," his voice rough. "We've made it through Damon. We have fought through every darkness he left behind. I can't— He stopped himself and moved closer. His hand stroked hers, shaking yet firm. "I can't go another day without making this clear." She turned, her eyes wide and her lips parted, but no sound came out. He knelt down, the city gleaming behind him. His dark suit was wrinkled, and his face was bare. He took a tiny package out of his pocket. The diamond inside sparkled like a piece of fire. "Get married to me." Not because it's safe or because the world demands it, but because I'll stand by you, fight with you, and love you until we've burned every ghost between us. Her throat got constricted. Tears filled her eyes, making it hard to see the guy who had helped her through storms. "Jaxon..." Her voice broke, and her body shook. "We've already lost so much." "What if it happens again?" He stood up and held her face in his rough hands. "Then we both lose. But I'll
"Mrs. Cross," the prosecutor's voice rang, "tell the court what you witnessed inside CrossCorp." Her throat was tight, but she made herself speak in a calm voice. "I saw them make up paperwork. I observed accounts emptied out into banks in other countries. Damon planned everything, but James—she hesitated for a moment—James made it happen. He ignored every warning and every request to quit. People in the gallery gasped. Mimi's comments hit like stones, heavy and irrefutable. "Did you talk to him?" "I begged him," she murmured, her voice breaking with the memories. "He said it was for survival." But greed took over survival. And greed turned into ruin. James eventually looked up, his eyes crimson around the edges, begging her without saying a word. Mimi's chest hurt, but she didn't move. The lawyer for the defence jumped up. "Objection, Your Honour!" Emotional guesswork. "She's making herself out to be a moral saint while tearing down her husband to get back at him." The judge's
"James Moreau," the head officer yelled, "you are under arrest for embezzlement and corporate fraud." Get up and put your hands where we can see them. James' throat got tight. He had always been arrogant in meetings, and his fine suits and sharp look were enough to make board members shut up. His power faded like smoke tonight. “This isn’t necessary,” he tried, his tone harsh. "You don't get it. I was trying to save CrossCorp, not ruin it." The officer's look was chilly. "Keep it for the courtroom." Mimi came into view from the door. Her body was exquisite yet tense with rage as they stared at each other. There was nothing soft about her face; it was just tiredness and honesty. He muttered, "Mimi," and the word sounded desperate. "You have to trust me." Damon cornered me. "I had no choice." She didn't move. She opened her mouth, but the stillness she gave him spoke louder than any allegation. She moved her face away slowly and on purpose, refusing him the mercy of her gaze. "Pl
"Do you think it's over?" He broke down, but the sneer persisted. "Do you think killing me will stop this?" "Stop talking," Mimi whispered in a low voice, although she was quite angry. "You've hurt enough people." Damon chuckled, but it sounded fake. A cough that sprayed red all over his chin shattered the silence. His hair, which used to be sleek, now adhered to his temples in a moist way, and the broken lighting of the casino made his skin look ghostly. "You'll never be free," he said in a curiously serene voice, as if he had been rehearsing what he was going to say for a long time. "You'll see me everywhere: in the dark, in their eyes, and in your dreams." You have my curse. "That's enough!" Jaxon's voice burst through, full of rage. He moved forward with his fists clenched, but Mimi raised a hand to stop him. "No, Jaxon," she said softly, staring right at Damon. "Let him speak." Let him die by what he says. Damon's breath stuck in his throat, and his chest rose and sank agai
"On your knees, Mimi," Damon growled, his voice silky as velvet but sharp as iron. "Give up now, or she dies screaming." Mimi's chest rose and fell. Her eyes went back and forth between Damon's nasty smirk and Lyra's big, scared eyes. "You don't have to do this," she said, but her voice shook. "Let her go." I'll give you what you want. James moved behind them. His palms were sweaty on the gun, which felt heavy and strange in his hand. For years, Damon had controlled every move he made, and his failures were like puppet strings. But the strings burned tonight. "Don't," Mimi murmured forcefully, even though she hadn't turned around. "I have to," James said, more to himself than anyone else. Every beat of his heart felt like an accusation. You put them here. Now get them out. Damon laughed and stroked Lyra's cheek as if he cared. "Men who are weak break up families." "Strong men own them." James's mind broke. He raised the rifle higher, and even though his voice was breaking, it co