Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband novel Chapter 383

383 No Room for Weakness 

(Jayden) 

“This is not the level of management Gus tolerated, and I won’t put up with incompetence either.” 

Grayson’s face flickers with shock, quickly masked by that mask of politeness. He straightens his posture, clearly readying himself for another lecture, but I don’t give him the chance. 

“We hire strategists here, not outdated relics clinging to tradition.” My words are precise, each one landing with a deliberate sting. “This isn’t a game for you to play by your own rules.” 

Grayson forces a smile. “Mr. Brennan, perhaps if you took the time to understand our approach instead of 

“Understand?” I interrupt. “The only thing I understand is that you’ve misled this company, mismanaged it. You lost a crucial deal due to pure negligence. The time for your excuses is over, Grayson. You’re a liability.” 

A murmur ripples through the room, a few of the other executives glancing at Grayson, visibly uncomfortable. Good.. Let them squirm. 

Grayson’s smile is gone now, replaced by a steely glare. “With all due respect, Mr. Brennan, Nexus London has achieved its success without interference from the outside. We’ve maintained stability, grown market share-” 

“Stability is a euphemism for stagnation, Grayson. Real business moves forward, adapts, and anticipates. You’re not leaders here; you’re placeholders.” 

Grayson’s knuckles go white as he grips the edge of the table. He’s trying to keep his composure, but I can see the cracks forming, his carefully constructed façade slipping. 

“You’re fired. Clear your desk by the end of the day–if you’re even capable of that.” 

A collective gasp echoes around the room. Grayson’s face twists in shock, then fury. He stares at me, disbelief giving way to barely contained rage. His hands tremble as he pushes himself up from his seat, his face red with anger. 

“You arrogant little-” he shouts, losing every ounce of his cold demeanor as he lunges forward, fists clenched. 

Before I can react, Viktor steps between us. His face is stone–cold, eyes unyielding as he stares down Grayson, his stance blocking any path forward. 

Grayson falters as he finds himself staring at Viktor, an immovable force. The room is silent, every person caught between shock and the thrill of impending chaos. 

“Step back,” Viktor’s voice is a low growl. 

Grayson hesitates but after a tense second, he straightens, attempting to salvage what’s left of his dignity. “This isn’t over,” he says. “You have no idea what you’re doing, Brennan. You think you can come in here and throw your weight around? You’ll regret this.” 

I raise an eyebrow, my tone cold and unbothered. “Is that a threat? I have more than enough to take you 

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383 No Room for Weakness 

to court over this. It’s been going on for years. And don’t expect a severance package. 

Grayson’s face pales and he tries to lunge around Viktor. He barely makes it two steps toward me. Viktor’s hand is a vise, twisting Grayson’s arm back in one brutal, fluid motion. 

Grayson grunts, I see a flash of panic as Viktor’s grip locks him in place. The room falls into silence, the other executives watching, their eyes wide. Viktor’s face remains impassive, a calm, almost lethal focus in his eyes that communicates a single message: don’t cross him. 

“You don’t touch Mr. Brennan, ever,” Viktor says, his as chilling as it is composed. 

The remaining executives exchange glances, and I can feel a shift in the room. Power’s changed hands, and they all know it. 

Viktor releases Grayson, letting him stumble back, his face flushed with a mix of anger and humiliation. He glares at me, but I step forward, meeting his gaze with a cold authority that doesn’t waver, 

“Pack your things and get out. You’re done here,” I say, my voice a low, dangerous murmur. 

Viktor moves back to his place beside me, and for a split second, I catch a glint of approval in his eyes. It’s subtle, but it’s there. 

Grayson leaves, rubbing his arm. 

“Well then,” I say, settling back in my seat at the head of the table, my voice regaining its calm. “Let’s move on. We have a company to run.” 

I get some affirmations and a few nods. 

“Any other insights on how I should manage Nexus Global?” I ask, my tone clipped but calm. 

“No, Mr. Brennan,” Leanne Bently replies, her voice soft and almost… inviting. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze never leaving mine. “I think you’ve made your direction clear.” 

I give a curt nod, keeping my expression neutral, but the hint of a smile lingers in her eyes. 

Another woman beside her shifts in her seat, adjusting the cleavage of her blouse down slightly as her gaze slowly runs over me. The hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. They don’t even try to mask their 

interest. 

I don’t engage beyond a professional nod of acknowledgment. I keep my focus razor–sharp, my demeanor unyielding.