"This deal is off. You all have two choices. Walk away now, or stay and make yourselves my enemies."
"And I don’t show mercy to my enemies."
Laughter erupted from the table.
"Did you hear that? This little bitch thinks she can order us around!"
"Eleanor, do you really think you're someone important?"
"Everyone here is worth over a hundred million. What can you possibly do to fight us?"
I slowly turned my head, my anger simmering beneath the surface.
"You must have heard the saying. There is always someone stronger out there."
"I suggest you think carefully before making a choice. Because once you do, there will be no turning back."
Holly’s expression twisted with disdain.
"What did you say? You think we’re afraid of you?"
"Miss Hawking, don’t you ever forget that you’re only standing here because you’re Mr. Woods’s wife!"
"Not that it matters much longer. Haven’t you heard? Mr. Woods is going to divorce you soon!"
After hearing Holly's words, the CEOs in the room visibly relaxed. Their mockery of me grew even bolder. But that wasn’t my concern anymore.
I scanned their smug, laughing faces, feeling an unexpected pang of disappointment. Was this really San Diego’s so-called business elite? All of this… just because I refused to drink?
How disgusting!
I didn’t care if they called me nothing but a trophy wife or just useless woman. Such words meant nothing to me. But what truly stung was the realization that I couldn’t even control the people within my own company.
Was this the price of staying too low-key?
Thanks to my special status, I had spent years at home. I rarely appeared in public. Even when I overheard company employees gossiping about me, I always laughed it off. I always believed that it wasn’t worth my time. But now, I saw the consequence of my indifference.
My silence had emboldened them. Holly mistook my quietness for fear. She pushed a tray of wine glasses toward me, smirking.
"Eleanor, here are ten glasses of wine. Drink them all, so you can leave."
"We’ll forget everything that happened tonight and you can go back to being a pretty trophy wife."
"But if you refuse to drink…"
The secretary then tapped her nails against the glass, eyes gleaming with malice.
"Then I’m afraid you won’t be leaving this room."