Catherine's stomach churned. Even standing in front of Maximilian hadn't made her feel this unsettled, this contaminated.
What did I ever see in him? she thought bitterly. He isn't even handsome. Just… hollow, cruel… and greedy.
How blind was I?
Without another word, Catherine opened her purse and laid everything out on his desk.
Time-stamped drafts. Emails. Correspondence. Data logs. Revision histories.
Proof.
Cold, methodical, and undeniable proof that she had worked on it herself. She met his gaze without flinching.
Jonathan gulped seeing the copies on his desk.
"I am," she said quietly, "the sole owner."
Her lips curved to a slow smirk.
Jonathan didn't raise his voice.
He stood instead and closed the office door carefully. The soft click echoed far louder than a slam ever could.
Catherine's fingers trembled slightly, to be in a locked room with a man… especially after what happened at the restaurant… But she took in a deep breath and clutched her purse closer.
