Nova's heart sank.
Was she really going to lose a life-changing opportunity twice, both times because of him?
She clenched her fists, gathering every ounce of her courage.
"Mr. Forrester, this work opportunity is incredibly important to me! I promise I'll fly back once a week. I will fully cooperate with you when it comes to Belinda."
He pushed the insulated container she had brought toward her, tapping his index finger sharply against the lid. His voice was freezing, devoid of any warmth. "You take my money, yet you can't even be bothered to fake the bare minimum. What gives you the right to demand I trust your promises?"
She stared at the container. He hadn't even tasted it, yet he already knew she hadn't cooked it, using it as proof that she lacked the 'attitude' to play her part.
A faint, dull ache suddenly pulsed in her lower abdomen.
She didn't know how to defend herself or how to convince him, but she knew she had to fight for this chance.
"Work has been really demanding lately. I didn't have time to personally simmer the broth tonight..."
He didn't let her finish. "That is your problem. If you can't manage your time, resign. You want the money, the perks, and your absolute freedom. Ms. Clarke, your greed is showing."
The expression froze on her face.
Just this morning, he had ordered her to drop the formal "Mr. Forrester" and change how she addressed him.
Now, he was calling her "Ms. Clarke."
It felt like a physical slap across the face.
It was a brutal reminder that no matter how long they had been married, or the fact that she had even conceived his child, he had never once viewed her as his wife.
At the end of the day, he looked down on her career. To him, her work was trivial.
In his eyes, she was probably worth less than that cat he shared with Yvette!
Refusing to endure this any longer, she turned on her heel to leave. At the exact same moment, he ordered, "Get out. Never step foot in this office again without my explicit permission."


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