A few minutes later, Julian’s sister, Cynthia, appeared in a tight crimson dress with a glass of red wine and a poisonous smirk.
“I heard the news, Nanny,” she sneered while looking me up and down. “You really do look like high-class domestic help in that ridiculous white dress.”
Julian returned and boasted about his conversation with the CEO, prompting Cynthia to raise her glass for a mock toast. She tilted her wrist with deliberate precision, sending a wave of dark red wine splashing directly across my white silk chest.
“Oh, I am so sorry!” she cried out with fake shock while the red stain spread like a wound over my gown.
“Clean it up quickly, Sarah, before Maxwell sees this embarrassing mess,” Julian hissed while shoving a few napkins into my hand.
“Your sister did that on purpose, Julian,” I said quietly.
“Don’t be dramatic, and since you’re the help tonight, you should probably wipe that wine off the floor too,” Cynthia added while laughing.
Julian pointed at the marble floor and commanded, “Do it now.”
Something inside me snapped as I looked at the napkins and then directly into Julian’s hollow eyes.
“No,” I said firmly while dropping the napkins onto the red-stained floor.
“Sarah! What do you think you’re doing?” Julian hissed, but I ignored him and began walking toward the stage with my head held high.
He tried to stop me by shouting that the stage was only for executives, but the room began to fall silent as I reached the microphone. Maxwell Thorne didn’t look confused at all; he stepped back and bowed his head slightly as I approached.
“Madam President,” he whispered, loud enough for the front rows to hear.
“Good evening, everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Sarah Montgomery,” I announced into the microphone.
I saw Julian and Cynthia standing by the bar, their faces frozen in a mask of pure terror.
“A few minutes ago, my husband introduced me to your CEO as the nanny, and his sister just threw wine on me because she thought I was the help,” I continued while the room erupted in gasps.
“I’m here to clarify that I don’t work for Julian Cárdenas, and I certainly don’t answer to a man who disowns his family for the sake of his ego,” I stated firmly.
“I am the owner of Zenith Group, the investor who saved this company from bankruptcy, and I am the one who decides who stays on this payroll,” I said while the crowd began to whisper frantically.
Julian turned so pale I thought he would collapse, but I didn’t stop there.
Continued on next page:
ADVERTISEMENT
