Chapter 263
Ethan’s frustration had nowhere to go.
It pressed against his ribs like something unfinished, something miscalculated. He had spent years reading people, anticipating motives, controlling outcomes.
And yet—
A single woman had slipped through that certainty and turned it against him.
He adjusted his tie sharply and headed toward the elevator.
Before he could reach it, someone stepped directly into his path.
Khloe.
“Ethan,” she said lightly, “aren’t we supposed to meet the partners soon? Where are you rushing off to?”
She stood there in a black-and-white plaid retro dress, tailored and elegant, the kind that looked soft at first glance but carried structure underneath. Five-centimeter heels with red soles grounded her presence; each step she took was deliberate, assured.
Her hair was neatly tied back.
Her smile—soft.
Her eyes—anything but.
Ethan paused for a fraction of a second, then let out a controlled breath.
“Something came up,” he said, smoothing his expression. “But you’re right. The meeting is about to start. I’ll handle it after.”
Khloe studied him for a moment longer, then stepped aside.
They walked together toward the conference room.
The space was large, glass-walled, and positioned close enough to the public corridor that sound insulation was imperfect. Any raised voice, any tension, would leak outward into the company floor.
A subtle design.
And Ethan knew exactly why Khloe had chosen it.
She wasn’t careless.
She was intentional.
They took their seats.
Ethan checked his watch.
Twenty minutes early.
Perfect timing—if everything went according to plan.
“Charlotte left the company?” he asked casually, leaning back as if the question were incidental.
“Mm,” Khloe replied, scrolling through her phone. “She intended to resign. I haven’t approved it yet.”
Ethan’s gaze flicked toward her.
“You need approval for a resignation?”
Khloe smiled faintly.
“I need a reason,” she corrected. “Charlotte is a diligent employee. Strong performance. No history of misconduct. People like that don’t leave without cause.”
She tapped her screen once.
“So I’m reviewing it properly.”
Her tone remained light, almost conversational.
But the meaning beneath it was sharp.
“If there’s any suspicion of internal pressure—harassment, unfair treatment, hidden interference—the company policy requires investigation. HR will handle it strictly.”
Ethan’s expression changed.
Just slightly at first.
Then again.
Color drained from his face in uneven stages, as if his control over it was slipping in real time.
He studied her carefully.
Trying to confirm what she knew.
How much she knew.
Khloe didn’t look back at him immediately. She kept her attention on her phone, as if the conversation barely required effort.
That calmness unsettled him more than confrontation would have.
A knock came at the door.
Ethan’s assistant leaned in and whispered quickly.
The shift in Ethan’s posture was immediate.
He stood abruptly.
Then stopped.
His eyes flicked toward Khloe.
She had already put her phone away.
Watching him now.
Still composed.
Still unreadable.
“Leave us,” Ethan said sharply to the assistant.
The door closed.
Silence settled.
Their gazes locked.
For the first time, neither of them looked away first.
“The partners aren’t coming,” Ethan said after a long pause.
His voice had gone colder.
“There’s been an issue with the Fox Group project. It’s under investigation. The cooperation may be suspended.”
A beat.
“This wasn’t accidental.”
Khloe nodded once.
“As expected.”
She stood up as if the meeting had simply reached its natural end.
But Ethan didn’t move.
“Khloe,” he said, sharper now. “You’re not going to say anything?”
She paused at the door.
Turned slightly.
“What do you want me to say?”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“Your opinion. Your explanation. Something.”
Khloe regarded him calmly.
Then she smiled—small, controlled, almost indifferent.
“What do I think?” she said softly.
“I think you already know the answer.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“Companies that rely on schemes instead of stability always end up here.”
A pause.
Her smile faded completely.
Only her eyes remained.
Cold.
Clear.
Unblinking.
“Don’t you agree, Ethan?”