Too Late, Mr. Robbins: I Am Gone

Eloise POV:

I stood before the huge mahogany desk of my employer, Blaze Robbins, my fingers clenched tightly around a piece of paper. The contract termination agreement. Signed.

Today was the last day of our five-year arrangement.

I slid the document across the polished wood. My voice was steady.

"Mr. Robbins, as per our agreement, the public relations contract officially terminates today. This is the confirmation."

He didn't look up. His ice-blue eyes were fixed on a team data report, scanning numbers and stats as if I were nothing more than a ghost in his peripheral vision.

Behind him, a colossal screen silently played a sports news recap. His own image flashed across it-the captain of the New York NHL team, a blur of speed and power on the ice, met with a roaring, adoring crowd.

A long moment passed. Finally, he lifted his gaze, his eyes sweeping over the document before landing on my face with a look of detached appraisal and impatience.

"Good work, Eloise Rogers.." His tone was like that of a man commending a well-functioning appliance. "You've saved me a lot of trouble these past five years."

A sharp, cold pang went through my chest, but I held my professional smile in place.

He opened a drawer and pulled out a check, holding it between two fingers. He pushed it toward me with a slow, deliberate motion that felt like charity.

I glanced at the number. Five million dollars.

He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk, a smirk playing on his lips-the familiar, all-controlling smile I knew so well.

"Enough for you to live a comfortable life, wouldn't you say?"

I didn't look at the check. I looked directly into his eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Robbins. I wish you all the best in the future."

My composure seemed to surprise him. He raised an eyebrow, leaned back in his chair, and returned to his report, a clear dismissal.

I turned, ready to make my exit from this humiliating farewell. Just then, his personal assistant, Alex Foster, knocked and entered, his expression urgent.

Alex Foster leaned in, his voice low. "Sir, Vance Media just pushed the press release. The headline is..."

My feet froze. Before I could force myself to leave, the screen of Blaze's private phone lit up on his desk. A news notification. The headline was too large to ignore.

"ICE PRINCE BLAZE TO TIE THE KNOT? DINNER WITH MEDIA HEIRESS ANNABELLE VANCE SUGGESTS DYNASTY MERGER."

My mind went blank, a sudden roar of white noise drowning out everything. An engagement? To a media tycoon's daughter?

My head snapped up to look at Blaze. He was frowning at his phone, annoyed that the news had broken early, but there wasn't a hint of explanation for me in his eyes.

In that instant, it all clicked into place. The five-year "cooperation." The five-million-dollar check. The well-timed, strategic merger of dynasties.

I wasn't just a terminated employee. I was the last piece of clutter being swept away to make room for his new life.

A hot flush of shame burned my cheeks. I felt like a fool. A complete and utter joke.

Blaze finally noticed I was still standing there. His eyes turned cold, a silent warning.

"Is there something else?"

I took a deep breath, forcing down the lump forming in my throat, and straightened my spine.

I picked up the check.

Under his icy stare, I slowly, deliberately, tore it in half.

The sound of ripping paper was shockingly loud in the silent office. Blaze's pupils contracted, his face registering genuine astonishment for the first time.

Just then, his friend and teammate, Crockett Ware, pushed the door open. He took in the scene and let out a low whistle.

"Well, well. What have we here?"

Crockett's eyes roamed over me, a lazy, inappropriate smile on his face.

I ignored him. I dropped the two pieces of the check onto Blaze's desk.

"Mr. Robbins," I said, my voice clear and cutting. "My services are concluded. This 'severance package'... I don't need it."

Without a backward glance at his face, which was now a thunderous mask of fury, I turned. The sharp click of my heels on the marble floor echoed my resolve as I walked out of the gilded cage that had imprisoned me for five years.

The door shut behind me, sealing off Crockett's amused taunts and Blaze's simmering rage.