Knox

A week later, I sit at the head of the long conference table with anger burning steadily inside my chest. 

Monica, my ex-wife, occupies one of the investor seats as if she still belongs in my world. 

I still remember how she tried to seduce me.

Her presence fills me with deep irritation that refuses to fade. I never wanted her anywhere near this company again, yet here she sits, calm and watchful.

Every time my eyes drift toward her, the resentment grows heavier, pressing against my ribs like a stone I cannot remove. 

I force myself to focus on the meeting, but the sight of her across the...