“You threw a ring at my feet last night,” she continued. “You told three hundred people that I was a barren wasteland that contributed nothing. Today, Everett, you will find out what happens when the ground you’ve been standing on disappears.”

She turned on her heel and signaled the movers. “Begin packing. Clear the master suite first.”

“Clara, stop!” Everett yelled, reaching for her arm.

Before his fingers could even graze her coat, two massive security guards who had been standing in the private elevator vestibule stepped between them, their broad shoulders completely blocking Everett’s path.

“Do not touch Miss Sterling, sir,” one of them said, his tone flat and lethal.

Clara walked toward the private elevator without looking back once. As the brass doors slid open, she stepped inside, turning to face them just before the doors closed.

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“I’ll see you in the boardroom at two o’clock, Everett,” she said. “Try to wear a clean suit. It might be the last one you own.”

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