The CEO's Icy Dismissal

Elara straightened her blouse as she walked through the main entrance of Thorne Industries. The familiar scent of polish and expensive wood greeted her, but something felt different. Perhaps it wasn't the building that had changed, but her.

She nodded at the security guard who recognized her immediately. "Good morning, Mrs. Thorne."

"Good morning, Louis," she replied, her voice steady.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime. As she stepped inside, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirrored wall. Gone was the desperate woman who used to fret about pleasing her husband. In her place stood someone more composed, more certain.

When the doors opened again on the executive floor, Elara nearly collided with Marcus Cole, Damien's secretary.

"Mrs. Thorne!" Marcus's eyes widened. "I didn't expect to see you today."

"I still work here, Marcus," she reminded him gently.

Marcus shifted awkwardly. "Of course. It's just that Mr. Thorne returned this morning with Miss Cora. I assumed you'd be taking time off."

Her heart skipped. "Damien is back?"

"Yes. They arrived earlier than scheduled." Marcus checked his watch. "He's in his office now."

Elara nodded, processing this information. She hadn't expected to see Damien today. She thought she'd have more time to prepare.

"Thank you for letting me know," she said, moving toward her office.

"Mrs. Thorne," Marcus called after her, "Mr. Thorne has scheduled several important meetings today. He specifically requested you not disturb him."

Of course he did. Even before she'd filed for divorce, Damien had treated her as an inconvenience rather than a wife.

"I have no intention of disturbing him, Marcus."

As she settled into her office, Elara found herself remembering how she used to spend hours perfecting Damien's coffee. She had learned his exact preference: dark roast, brewed at precisely 205 degrees, with just a hint of cream. No sugar. She'd practiced until she could make it flawlessly every time.

All that effort for a man who barely acknowledged her existence.

The morning passed quickly as she focused on her work. Around eleven, a commotion in the hallway caught her attention. She heard Cora's excited voice and peered out her office door.

There stood her daughter, holding Damien's hand and chattering animatedly. She wore a new dress Elara hadn't seen before, probably purchased during their trip. Beside them stood Vivienne Dubois, looking effortlessly elegant in a tailored white suit.

"And then Vivienne taught me how to post in English style!" Cora was saying. "Dad says I'm a natural, just like her!"

Damien's lips curved into a rare smile – the kind he never directed at Elara. "That's because you're both extraordinary."

Vivienne laughed, the sound light and musical. "She's definitely your daughter, Damien. That competitive spirit is all you."

The casual intimacy between them made Elara's chest tighten. This was the family unit she had never been part of – Damien, Cora, and Vivienne.

Cora suddenly spotted her. "Mom!"

Elara put on her brightest smile. "Hi, sweetheart!"

She stepped forward to embrace her daughter, but Cora gave her only a brief hug before turning back to Vivienne.

"Vivienne bought me these shoes in Milan! Aren't they pretty?"

"Very pretty," Elara agreed, trying to hide her disappointment.

Damien finally acknowledged her presence with a curt nod. "Elara."

"Damien," she replied, her voice matching his coolness. "How was your trip?"

"Productive." His eyes moved past her as if she were barely worth his attention.

Once, that dismissal would have crushed her. Now it merely reinforced her decision to end their marriage.

"Mrs. Thorne," Marcus interrupted, appearing suddenly beside them. "Those reports you requested are ready."

"Thank you, Marcus." She turned back to Cora. "I'll see you at home later, sweetheart. We can catch up then."

Cora nodded distractedly, already tugging on Vivienne's hand. "Can we show Dad that thing we practiced?"

"Of course, darling," Vivienne replied, shooting Elara a triumphant glance.

Elara returned to her office, closing the door quietly behind her. She took a moment to breathe deeply, steadying herself.

An hour later, Marcus knocked on her door. "Mrs. Thorne, Mr. Thorne is requesting coffee in his office."

Elara looked up from her computer. "Why are you telling me this? That's not my job anymore."

Marcus shifted uncomfortably. "He specifically asked for you to bring it."

"I see." She should refuse. She had every right to. But causing a scene would only make things worse. "Fine."

In the break room, she prepared Damien's coffee exactly as she always had. The familiar routine felt absurd now. When had she become so pathetically eager to please a man who showed her nothing but indifference?

As she approached Damien's office, she noticed the door was slightly ajar. She was about to knock when she heard Vivienne's laughter from inside.

"You're insatiable," Vivienne purred.

"Only for you," came Damien's husky reply.

Elara froze. Through the narrow opening, she could see Vivienne perched on Damien's lap, her arms wound around his neck. As Elara watched, Vivienne pressed her lips to Damien's in a deep, passionate kiss.

The coffee cup trembled in Elara's hand. She should walk away. She knew she should walk away. But her feet remained rooted to the spot.

Vivienne pulled back slightly from the kiss, still unaware of Elara's presence. "When are you going to tell her?"

"Soon," Damien replied, his hand caressing Vivienne's hip. "After the merger is finalized."

The door creaked as Elara shifted her weight, and both heads snapped toward her. Damien's expression transformed from desire to cold fury in an instant.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

Hot coffee sloshed over the rim of the cup, scalding Elara's hand. She barely felt it.

"Marcus said you wanted coffee," she managed to say, her voice remarkably steady despite the humiliation burning through her.

Vivienne slid gracefully from Damien's lap, smoothing her skirt with a satisfied smirk. "I believe that's my cue to leave. I'll see you tonight, darling."

She brushed past Elara, her expensive perfume lingering in the air.

"Put the coffee down and close the door," Damien ordered once Vivienne had gone.

Elara set the cup on his desk, noticing too late that her hand was trembling, leaving drops of coffee on his polished mahogany surface.

"I don't recall asking you to spy on me," Damien said, his voice dangerously quiet.

"I wasn't—"

"Mr. Thorne?" Ethan Stone, another secretary, appeared in the doorway. His eyes flicked between them, assessing the situation. "Is everything alright?"

"Mrs. Thorne was just leaving," Damien replied coldly.

Ethan's lips curled into a barely perceptible smile. "I see. Should I remind Mrs. Thorne that executive offices require a knock before entry? This isn't the first time she's... interrupted inappropriately."

The implication was clear: Elara had deliberately walked in on them. As if she enjoyed being humiliated.

"That won't be necessary," Damien said. "But if it happens again, Mrs. Thorne will no longer be welcome in this building. Is that clear?"

Elara looked down at her hand, now red and beginning to blister from the coffee burn. "Perfectly clear."

She left without another word, dignity intact but heart pounding. In the hallway, she overheard two junior executives talking.

"Did you see Dr. Dubois earlier? Absolute goddess."

"I heard she's practically running the European expansion already. Thorne can't function without her."

"Can you blame him? Beauty and brains—the whole package."

Elara quickened her pace, heading for the women's restroom to cool her burned hand. Just as she rounded the corner, she nearly collided with a group of people.

At the center stood Vivienne, surrounded by fawning senior managers. When they saw Elara, their expressions hardened.

"Watch where you're going!" snapped Richard Porter, head of finance. "Be careful not to bump into Ms. Dubois. Have you got no manners?"