Pregnant And Fleeing The Ruthless Billionaire

"Very well," Jodi said into the phone, her voice crisp and cold as the ice water she imagined throwing in Sterling's face. "Le Bernardin. One hour."

She chose the three-Michelin-starred restaurant deliberately. It was one of Armand's favorites-a place where deals were struck, and mistresses were never, ever seen. She would meet him at the center of his world and burn it down.

She arrived in a charcoal Tom Ford pantsuit. It was armor, a stark contrast to the soft dresses Armand preferred her in. Her hair was pulled back into a severe, elegant chignon. She looked less like a discarded mistress and more like opposing counsel.

Sterling was already seated in a plush private banquette, swirling a glass of amber liquid. He did not rise as she approached. He simply offered a smug, lazy smile and gestured to the seat across from him.

"Jodi. You clean up nicely when you're angry," he said, his eyes roaming over her in a way that made her skin crawl. "Relax. Have a drink."

She sat, deliberately placing her handbag on the seat beside her. She did not look at the menu. She did not acknowledge the hovering waiter. She looked directly at Sterling.

He slid a navy velvet box across the table. Cartier. "A little something from Armand. He thought you might be feeling left out."

Jodi did not touch it. "If this meeting is meant to convince me to withdraw my termination request, you're wasting your time, Sterling."

His smile faltered. "Don't be ungrateful, Jodi. Isabella's family is old-world. Very Catholic, very conservative. Armand needs a clean public image. That doesn't mean your position is redundant."

He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "He'll be more generous after the wedding. You just have to be a little more... discreet."

Jodi listened, her expression unreadable. Her heart was pounding with furious anger inside her chest, but her face was a stone mask.

Her silence was a miscalculation on his part. He thought she was considering the terms. He thought she was weighing her options, calculating her price.

"Or," he added, his smile returning, uglier this time, "if you're feeling lonely, I'm sure some of us would be happy to keep you company. In our circle, we believe in sharing resources."

That was it. The final, unforgivable line.

With a fluid motion, Jodi picked up the tall glass of ice water on the table and hurled its contents squarely into his face.

Sterling let out a sharp, startled gasp. Ice cubes clattered onto his plate. Water dripped from his perfectly styled hair, running down the collar of his thousand-dollar shirt.

Jodi rose, towering over him.

"Mr. Prescott," she said, her voice low and trembling with barely contained fury. "Please give Armand a message for me."

She raised one finger. "First, my termination request is non-negotiable."

A second finger. "Second, after the thirty-day review period, I will disappear from your lives so completely that you will wonder if I ever existed."

She leaned forward, her eyes like chips of ice. "And third, I want you to listen very carefully. Tell Armand to keep his dogs on a leash. Because if any of you ever speaks to me like that again, I cannot guarantee the structural integrity of your teeth."

She turned and walked away, her heels striking a sharp, unyielding rhythm against the polished floor. She did not look back.

She hailed a taxi, and it was only after the door closed securely behind her that her body began to shake. It was not fear. It was pure, undiluted rage.

Her phone buzzed violently in her handbag. Armand Taylor.

She rejected the call and blocked his number.

Seconds later, the phone rang again. Grant Fletcher. She knew who was on the other end. She answered.

"Jodi Holden, have you lost your mind?" Armand's voice was a roar of fury, all his usual composure stripped away.

"I have never been more clear-headed in my life, Mr. Taylor," she replied, using the formal address for the first time. It was a declaration of war.

"Do you think this is a game? Who the hell do you think you are? Everything you have, I gave you! I can freeze your accounts, your assets, I can have you thrown out of this city with nothing!"

"Then I suggest you try," she said, her voice eerily calm. "The agreement is quite clear. All assets are frozen during the thirty-day review period, but they cannot be disposed of without mutual consent or a court order."

A stunned silence on the other end of the line. He had never imagined she would read the fine print. He had never imagined she would understand it.

"You think you can challenge me with a few legal terms you barely comprehend?" he finally snarled, menace dripping from his voice. "I will have my lawyers tear you apart. You signed that contract, Jodi. Until I say otherwise, you are my property."

"See you in court," she said softly.

And she hung up.

Outside the taxi window, the city lights blurred into ribbons of gold and white. The war had begun