Divorced Wife's Secret Twins: Billionaire's Regret

The next day.

The air in the executive boardroom was freezing, heavily air-conditioned to keep the executives awake.

Aubree, forced into duty because the catering staff was short-handed, carried a massive, silver tray loaded with black coffees. The weight of the porcelain strained her wrists.

In the center of the dark room, a massive holographic projector hummed. A 3D model of a spectacular diamond necklace slowly rotated in the air.

The Angel's Tears.

Ell sat at the head of the long glass table. His eyes were locked onto the glowing diamonds. The usual ice in his gaze was gone, replaced by a haunting, tragic tenderness. It was the look he only ever reserved for Georgina.

Aubree stepped up to his side and placed his black coffee on the coaster. Seeing that look on his face sent a sharp, physical pang through her chest.

Brittany stood by the projector, holding a laser pointer. She beamed at the board members.

"This is the masterpiece Georgina left behind," Brittany announced proudly. "We have perfectly reconstructed it from her final sketches."

Aubree backed away into the shadows near the heavy oak doors. Out of pure, ingrained professional habit, her eyes scanned the structural blueprint rotating next to the necklace.

Three seconds. That was all it took.

Her eyes caught the fatal flaw. The stress points on the platinum prongs holding the fifty-carat center stone were entirely miscalculated.

Brittany's voice echoed in the room. "This piece will be the grand finale at next week's charity gala. It will solidify the Steele Group's dominance in the luxury sector."

Aubree stared at the C-section clasp on the hologram. If someone wore that necklace for more than two hours, the body heat and movement would snap the metal. It wasn't a masterpiece. It was a ticking time bomb.

The executives around the table broke into loud, sycophantic applause.

Aubree couldn't stomach the insult to the art of jewelry making. A short, sharp scoff escaped her lips.

In the quiet boardroom, the sound was like a gunshot.

The applause died instantly. Twenty pairs of eyes snapped toward the dark corner where she stood.

Ell's head turned. The tenderness in his face vanished, replaced by a layer of frost so thick it was suffocating. His dark eyes locked onto her pale face like targeting lasers.

Brittany seized the moment. She pointed a manicured finger at Aubree. "How dare you? A coffee-fetching assistant laughing at Georgina's life's work?"

The room grew heavy with pressure. Aubree didn't shrink back. She straightened her spine and stepped out of the shadows.

"That connection looks way too thin," Aubree stated, her voice calm but laced with genuine concern.

She pointed at the hologram. "If you hang such a massive stone on that tiny clasp, won't it just snap under the weight? It doesn't look secure at all."

Dead silence filled the room. The head of the engineering department frowned, looking back at the hologram, suddenly unsure. Even phrased as a layman's question, her observation hit a glaring visual vulnerability.

Bang!

Ell slammed his open palm onto the glass table. The violent sound made everyone jump.

He stood up. His massive frame radiated pure, unadulterated rage. He walked slowly around the table, backing Aubree up until her shoulders hit the wall.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Ell's voice was a low, lethal growl. "You think you have the right to evaluate Georgina's design?"

Aubree tilted her head up, refusing to break eye contact. "Physics don't change just because the designer is dead."

The air in the room seemed to combust.

Ell's face twisted with disgust. He leaned in, his breath hitting her face. "Your jealousy is sickening. You are a vile, manipulative woman who can't stand that she will always be better than you."

Brittany chimed in from the front. "Ell, she might be a corporate spy trying to ruin the gala."

Ell didn't even look at Brittany. He kept his eyes on Aubree. "Revoke her access to the main building. Throw her in the sub-basement archives. Now."

Two heavy-set security guards stepped forward immediately. They grabbed Aubree by the upper arms, their grips bruising her skin.

They yanked her toward the door.

Aubree struggled to keep her footing. As they dragged her through the doorway, her hip and lower abdomen slammed hard into the heavy metal doorframe.

A sharp, tearing pain ripped through her stomach.

She let out a muffled groan, her face draining of all color. She doubled over slightly, her breath hitching.

Ell watched her suffer. His eyes were flat, devoid of a single ounce of mercy.

"Throw her down the stairs if you have to," he ordered the guards.

The heavy boardroom doors slammed shut in her face, cutting off the light.

Aubree leaned heavily against the cold corridor wall. She wrapped both arms around her stomach, panting heavily. Cold sweat soaked through the back of her cheap blouse.

She looked back at the closed doors. The pain in her body faded, replaced by a cold, calculating numbness.

The last shred of her heart had just frozen over.