No Second Chances Ex-husband (Lauren and Ethan) novel Chapter 80

LAUREN’S POV

5 YEARS LATER

The room fell silent the moment I walked in. It still surprised me sometimes, how quickly people quieted when my heels touched the floor, every eye followed me. Not because I asked for it, but because in Italy, my name had become its own weight.

Lauren Darrow.

A name that could sign off on millions, close deals across oceans, and ruin anyone foolish enough to stand in my

way.

Once I was in the room, I picked up the small remote resting neatly on the long polished table. The glass surface reflected the faint gleam of the ceiling lights, and for a second, I caught my own determined expression staring back at me. I pressed the button, and the massive TV screen on the wall blinked to life, filling the quiet boardroom with its bright glow.

years, I had poured I straightened my jacket, smoothed the crease of my skirt, and exhaled slowly. For five everything I had into this company – late nights, endless travel,.battles that had tested every ounce of my patience. And now, I was ready to show them what all that effort had built. I was ready to remind them of the weight I carried on these shoulders.

–

The screen displayed the first slide, bold and clear: a chart mapping Hale Inc.’s stock trajectory since my first day here. As the image sharpened, I felt a small surge of pride. Every upward curve, every steady incline — it wasn’t just numbers. It was proof. Proof that I had changed not just this branch, but the company’s standing across the entire industry.

I rested my hands lightly on the edge of the table, leaning forward just enough to command attention. My eyes

seasoned swept across the faces surrounding me. Men in their dark suits, women in their sharp blazers professionals who once barely gave me a passing glance. Five years ago, I had been the outsider, the young woman they doubted, the one they believed wouldn’t last a year in a room like this.

Now, they watched me. Some with curiosity, others with impatience, but most with something I had fought tooth and nail to earn: respect.

I cleared my throat, the soft sound slicing through the silence.

“Before we dive into the quarterly projections,” I began, my voice calm, steady, “I think it’s worth reminding ourselves where we started.”

A ripple of movement stirred the room. Someone adjusted their tie; another leaned back in his chair, Even the

who prided himself on his composure, shifted slightly, eyes fixed on me as though trying to anticipate

manager,

where I would take this.

I tapped the remote again. The slide shifted, displaying a simple, no–frills graph — nothing but a line that told a story better than any words could.

“When I first walked into this room five years ago, this company was running at a 2.3% growth rate.” I paused

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deliberately, allowing the number to sink in. “Stagnant. Safe. Almost invisible compared to our competitors.”

The silence grew heavier, like the weight of the past pressing in on all of us. I let it linger, then pressed the button again. The line on the chart leapt upward, sharp and undeniable.

“Today,” I continued, “we’re at 12.8%. That’s nearly a sixfold increase.”

I let a faint smile tug at the corner of my lips, not of arrogance but of certainty. This was the reality I had shaped for Hale Industries

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Signora Rossi, one of the most senior board members, tilt her head. Her lips twitched into the faintest smile, a rare gesture from a woman who had spent years opposing nearly every idea I brought to the table. In the early days, she had been my harshest critic, the loudest voice in the chorus that questioned if I belonged here. Now, she was the one quietly acknowledging the results she could no longer deny.

I let my gaze sweep the room once more before continuing.

“You’ll also remember,” I said, clicking the remote again, “that our international portfolio barely existed back then. We were trading in four countries, and even then, the revenue streams were unstable, fragile at best.”

The next slide filled the screen, illuminating the boardroom with a glowing world map. Bright highlights spread across it, each mark representing a new foothold, a new success..

“Now?” I gestured toward the screen, letting the word hang in the air before I explained. “Fifteen countries. Stable revenue in twelve. Active negotiations in three more.”

The manager

shifted in his seat, his usual skeptical expression slipping into something more thoughtful. I caught the faint crease in his brow, the way his eyes flickered between me and the glowing chart behind me. For years, I’d grown used to that look of doubt mixed with caution. But this time, it carried something else. Something like recognition.

“I’m not saying this to boast,” I added quickly, my voice steady, because I could feel the weight of their stares pressing against me like a test. “I’m saying this because numbers don’t lie. Five years ago, we were cautious. Too cautious. We let opportunities pass us by. That’s not who we are anymore. Not under my watch.”

The words hung in the air, as sharp as the click of my heels when I’d walked into this room earlier. A pause stretched across the table, measured and heavy. Then one of the board members, a man named De Luca, leaned forward, steepling his fingers as though he had been waiting for the right moment to speak. His salt–and- pepper hair caught the soft light above us, and his dark eyes fixed on me with the sort of intensity that once might have unnerved me.

“Impressive,” he said at last, his tone thoughtful rather than dismissive. “But where do you see us in the next

five?”

I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. That was the question I’d been waiting for, rehearsing for, turning over in my mind during late nights when my office lamp was the last one still burning.

“That depends,” I said, drawing out the words, letting anticipation build. “It depends on how bold you’re willing to be. We’ve proven we can rise. The question is, do we want to keep rising steadily or do we want to lead?”

་་ ་2་ ILIV

A murmur of voices rippled down the long table. Chairs shifted, papers rustled. I could sense the flicker of nerves, but also curiosity.

“If it’s the latter,” I continued, my voice firm, “then we need to push into untapped markets. Asia. South America. Places where our competitors are still hesitant, where the first mover has the advantage. We can be that mover.”

The room buzzed with low conversation, board members whispering to one another, their guarded tones betraying both doubt and intrigue. I didn’t let it throw me off; I had expected resistance. Change never came

without it.

“And let’s not forget,” I pressed on, clicking the remote again. A new slide appeared, numbers climbing, projections glowing in neat columns. “Our partnerships. We’ve cultivated strong ties here in Italy and across Europe, but alliances outside our comfort zone could double our trajectory. The data support it. This isn’t a gamble, it’s a calculated step forward.”

I set the remote down gently, the plastic clicking softly against the polished wood of the table, letting my gaze sweep across each face, giving them no chance to look away. My voice dropped, steady, measured, the kind of tone that demanded attention.

“Five years ago, no one thought this company could rise the way it has. Some of you didn’t believe I belonged here at all.” I paused, letting the memory of those first icy boardroom meetings linger in the air. “But look at us now. This is only the beginning.”

For a heartbeat, there was silence. Pure, unbroken. The kind that could shatter into either rejection or approval. Then, as if on cue, hands began tapping against the table. A subtle sign of respect, the Italian gesture of agreement. One by one, it spread until the room carried a rhythm of approval, restrained but undeniable.

Inside, I allowed myself the smallest flicker of satisfaction, a warm ember sparking quietly in my chest. Outwardly, I kept my expression calm, professional, untouchable. They didn’t need to see the girl who had once been dismissed and discarded. They only needed to see the woman who had built something undeniable.