Pregnant And Fleeing The Ruthless Billionaire

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

She chose the three-Michelin-star restaurant on purpose. It was one of Armand's favorites, a place where deals were made and mistresses were never, ever seen. She would meet him in the heart of his world, and she would set it on fire.

She arrived wearing a charcoal gray Tom Ford pantsuit. It was armor, a stark contrast to the soft, feminine dresses Armand preferred her in. Her hair was pulled back in a severe, elegant knot. She looked less like a jilted lover and more like an opposing counsel.

Sterling was already seated in a plush private booth, swirling a glass of amber liquid. He didn't stand when she approached. He just smirked, a lazy, entitled expression, and gestured to the seat opposite him.

"Jodi. You clean up nice 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, placing her handbag deliberately on the seat beside her. She didn't look at the menu. She didn't look at the waiter hovering nearby. She looked directly at Sterling.

He slid a small, navy blue velvet box across the table. Cartier. "A little something from Armand. He thought you might be feeling neglected."

Jodi didn't touch it. "If the purpose of this meeting is to convince me to withdraw my termination request, you're wasting your time, Sterling."

The smirk on his face faltered. "Don't be ungrateful, Jodi. Isabella's family is old-world. Very Catholic, very conservative. Armand needs a clean slate for the public. It doesn't mean your position is redundant."

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

Jodi listened, her expression unreadable. Her heart was pounding a hard, angry rhythm against her ribs, but her face was a mask of stone.

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 smirk returning, uglier this time, "if you get 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.

In one fluid motion, Jodi picked up the tall glass of ice water from the table and threw its contents directly into his face.

The gasp from Sterling was sharp, shocked. Ice cubes clattered onto his plate. Water dripped from his perfectly styled hair down the collar of his thousand-dollar shirt.

Jodi stood up, looming over him.

"Mr. Prescott," she said, her voice low and shaking with a tightly controlled rage. "Please deliver a message to Armand for me."

She held up one finger. "First, my termination request is not negotiable."

A second finger. "Second, upon the conclusion of the thirty-day review, I will disappear from your lives so completely you'll wonder if I ever existed."

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

She turned and walked away, her heels clicking a sharp, defiant rhythm on the polished floor. She didn't look back.

She hailed a cab, and only when the door was safely closed behind her did her body begin to tremble. It wasn't fear. It was pure, unadulterated fury.

Her phone began to vibrate violently in her purse. Armand Taylor.

She declined the call and blocked his number.

Seconds later, it 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 furious snarl, stripped of all its usual control.

"I've never been more sane in my life, Mr. Taylor," she replied, using the formal address for the first time. It was a declaration of war.

"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 but the clothes on your back!"

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

A stunned silence on the other end. He never thought she'd read the fine print. He never thought she'd understand it.

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

"We'll see you in court," she said softly.

Then she hung up.

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