Too Late CEO: I Am Taking Everything

The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of the open-plan design floor, casting long shadows across Eleonora's cubicle. She sat perfectly still in her ergonomic chair, the low partitions around her offering little privacy.

She pulled the Equity Transfer Agreement from her briefcase and laid it flat in the center of her desk. She placed the custom Montblanc pen—a gift from Julian—right next to it.

The sharp, aggressive click-clack of high heels echoed down the hallway.

Eleonora didn't move. She knew exactly who it was.

The sound stopped right outside her cubicle. Without a knock, Seraphina stepped inside, invading the small space as if she owned it.

Seraphina was wearing a blood-red tailored suit that screamed for attention. She held two Starbucks cups in her hands, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered across her face.

"Good morning, Eleonora," Seraphina chirped. She set one of the cups on the corner of the desk. "I brought you coffee. I wanted to apologize for the little misunderstanding in the boardroom yesterday."

Eleonora leaned back in her chair. She crossed her arms over her chest, her posture defensive and cold.

"This is a professional workspace, Director," Eleonora said, her voice flat. "You knock before you enter—even when there's no door."

Seraphina's smile faltered for a second before she pouted her lips in fake innocence.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she cooed. "I just assumed you wouldn't mind. Julian never makes me knock."

As Seraphina leaned over the desk to push the coffee cup closer, her eyes naturally fell onto the thick document lying in the center of the wood.

Her eyes scanned the bold black header.

10% Equity Transfer Letter of Intent.

Seraphina's pupils dilated so fast her eyes looked entirely black. Her breathing stopped. The fake smile melted off her face, replaced by a look of sheer, unadulterated horror.

She jerked upright, her fingernails digging painfully into her own palms.

"What is that?" Seraphina demanded, her voice shrill and trembling.

Eleonora saw the raw, burning jealousy in Seraphina's eyes. A cold, dark satisfaction bloomed in Eleonora's chest.

She slowly reached out and picked up the Montblanc pen. She tapped the gold nib gently against the paper. Tap. Tap.

"This?" Eleonora asked, her tone light and mocking. "Just a little preliminary legal arrangement Julian insisted on initiating last night. To make up for your little tantrum in the boardroom."

The words hit Seraphina like a physical slap across the face. Her face turned a mottled, ugly red.

"You're lying!" Seraphina shrieked, her voice echoing off the glass walls of the nearby executive offices. "He would never give you shares! You're an outsider! He wouldn't give away the family company!"

Eleonora ignored her screaming. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the desk. She stared directly into Seraphina's manic eyes.

"An outsider?" Eleonora laughed softly.

She pressed the pen to the signature line. With smooth, fluid strokes, she signed her full legal name: Eleonora Sinclair.

The scratch of the pen on the thick paper was the only sound in the room.

Eleonora capped the pen. She grabbed the top of the document and spun it 180 degrees, sliding it directly under Seraphina's nose.

"Read it carefully," Eleonora commanded, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "I am now a major shareholder of Sinclair Group. And you? You're just an employee."

Seraphina stared at the fresh, wet ink of the signature. Her chest heaved violently. The blood rushed to her head, blinding her with rage.

With a feral scream, Seraphina lunged across the desk, her hands clawing wildly for the contract, desperate to rip it to shreds.

Eleonora was faster. She slammed her left hand down on the document, pinning it to the desk. With her right hand, she swept her arm in a violent arc.

Her forearm collided with the hot Starbucks cup Seraphina had brought.

The cup tipped over. The lid popped off.

Scalding hot coffee splashed directly onto the front of Seraphina's expensive red skirt.

Seraphina shrieked in pain and shock. She stumbled backward, her high heels catching on the carpet. She crashed hard into the partition wall of the cubicle, clutching her stained skirt.

The commotion drew a crowd. Designers and assistants gathered outside the cubicle, staring in shock at their new Director, who looked like a wet, screaming mess.

Seraphina felt the eyes of the entire department on her. The humiliation burned hotter than the coffee on her legs. Her facial muscles twitched with pure, murderous hatred as she glared at Eleonora.

Eleonora stood up slowly. She grabbed a tissue from a box and elegantly wiped a drop of coffee off her knuckle.

She looked down at Seraphina with absolute disgust.

"Take your trash and get out of my cubicle," Eleonora ordered.

Seraphina ground her teeth together so hard her jaw popped. She knew she had lost this battle. She spun around, shoved her way through the whispering crowd of employees, and ran down the hallway.

The crowd quickly dispersed. Paige scurried over with a roll of paper towels, looking at Eleonora with a mixture of terror and awe.

Eleonora sank back into her chair. Her adrenaline crashed, leaving her limbs feeling heavy and weak. She locked the signed contract in her desk drawer.

She had won the battle, but her heart felt completely empty. She knew Seraphina would run straight to Julian crying.

Hours passed. At 5:30 PM, Eleonora packed her bag.

Her phone buzzed. It was Julian.

"Nora," his voice came through the speaker, sounding tired but incredibly gentle. "Let's go out for dinner tonight. Just the two of us. To celebrate."

Eleonora stared at the locked drawer. She placed her hand over her stomach.

She took a long breath. The contract was signed. The shares were hers. Now there was only one secret left—the one growing inside her. She had given him chance after chance, and each time he had chosen Seraphina. But tonight, she would test him one final time. Not with hope. With proof.

"Okay," she said softly. "I'll meet you in the VIP garage."

She hung up the phone and walked out of the office, unaware that she was walking straight into a nightmare.