"What are you planning to do?" Clint watched me warily.

"I'm going to send you right back to the gutter you crawled out of."

Clint was silent for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Aveline, stop dreaming. This company is mine. As for your parents… they’ve already handed everything to me. What can a couple of retirees do?"

I smashed a teacup on the floor. A shard of porcelain grazed Clint's cheek, and a single drop of blood trickled down.

"Are you so sure this is the only company my parents own?"

Clint frowned.

I glanced at Brielle, who had rushed to cling to his arm, and smiled brightly. "When I first met you, your coworkers treated you like dirt. I took pity on you and begged my father to give you a job here."

These were the last words Clint ever wanted to hear. His face flushed a deep, furious red.

"That was then! I'm in charge now!"

Brielle stood on her toes and kissed Clint's bloody cheek, giving me a provocative glare. "Clint loves me now. You're a relic, Aveline. Your time is over."

A relic? I let out a cold laugh and, right in front of Clint, dialed my father's chief consultant.

"Ronan, get to my office. Now."

The words had barely left my mouth when the door swung open. Ronan Hayes strode in, flanked by several men in dark suits. He walked directly to me and bowed his head slightly.

"Miss Prescott. I've brought the documents you requested."

I took the folder he handed me and slapped it across Clint's face.

"Get out. Now."