Page 57 of Run for Her Life
Instead, it was Landers, one of the younger board members, who finally spoke. “It’s about stability.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Things have been in flux with the product launch indefinitely delayed, our company reporting losses this past quarteragain, and the stock price down nineteen percent this week alone. We can’t be seen to be making too many changes.”
There it was. An excuse disguised as corporate diplomacy.
He gave a slow nod, jaw tightening. “Right. Because when something isn’t working then a change in strategy is the last thing to try?”
Markson sighed like he wanted to get out of here before the valet shift changed. “This is final, David. We’re sorry.”
David turned his gaze back to Dawn. She was watching him the way a surgeon watches a patient before the first incision. And then there was the glint ofI told you so. She loved inflicting pain on him, putting him in his place.
“You should be grateful, really,” she said smoothly. “This is me protecting you.”
He let out a short, humorless laugh. “You always were generous.”
The irony of Dawn protecting him when really it was the other way around. He could let it slip that the product launch had been canceled not because it had failed quality assurance but because it had been stolen. He could reveal how Dawnhad lied to the board previously. But the words remained stuck inside his mouth. It was the power his mother held over him—and she knew it.
The meeting ended without ceremony. And just like that, his candidacy—his shot at real power—was gone.
By the time he reached his office, David was fuming.
He pulled at his tie, undoing the knot in one sharp motion. The office lights were dim, the city skyline stretching beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. His reflection stared back at him. All he saw was a man who had spent his entire life being wronged.
His phone buzzed.
He let it ring once while trying to still the gibbering of his mind. Saliva thickened in his throat. This was the last thing he needed today.
“I’m doing everything I can,” David said, answering the phone.
The voice on the other end was curt, impatient. “How much more time do you need, Mr. Harrington? Because we’re running out of patience.”
“I know,” he muttered. “Just… one more week. One more week and everything will be in place.”
A pause. Then, without another word, the line disconnected.
Sweat beaded David’s hairline. He opened his laptop. A few keystrokes. A confirmation screen. His finger hovered over the button. It was a huge amount. Then, with a final press of a button, the wire transfer was sent. He typed a message.
I’ve sent more. You need to step up.
Across the office, beyond the glass walls, Dawn’s office was visible. She marched back inside, her posture stiff and proud. He watched as she reached into her purse, pulled out a small vial, and dry-swallowed two pills.
David was puzzled. But then a smile curled up his lips.
Lisa didn’t know who her husband was. She didn’t even know who she was. Her life suddenly seemed completely foreign to her. Her memories felt fabricated. Was anything real? She sat in her living room, surrounded by the furniture she’d handpicked, in a house that she’d chosen as a newlywed many years ago. Now everything felt infected and impersonal. She resisted the urge to dig her nails into the walls and tear down this false life she’d naively constructed with Jim.
Her heartbeat was erratic, and chaotic thoughts swarmed her mind like a flock of birds. She caught her reflection in the mirror. Her face was bloated—a side effect from the treatments she was subjecting her body to.
The glass hit the wall before she even realized she’d thrown it. It exploded into a thousand jagged pieces, scattering across the hardwood floor. Rage, hot and consuming, climbed up her throat.
Her hand found the nearest object, a framed photo on the console table. The frame hit the ground face down, the glass fracturing beneath it. She stared at it for a moment, at the memory now shattered. She spun round, yanking the lamp from the side table and hurling it to the ground. The bulb burst in a violent pop, plunging the corner of the room into shadow.
It wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever going to be enough.
Her fingers fisted her hair and pulled at it. She sucked in a shaking breath and backed up against the wall. Her knees buckled, and she slid down the wall, her breaths coming too fast, too ragged.
“Lisa? Lisa!” Jim’s voice rang in her ears. She looked up and his worried face hovered over hers. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shut up!” she screamed. He froze. She was a rabid animal. “How could you? How could you?” She stood up and shoved him backward.
“Let’s calm down and talk about this rationally,” he said, backing off with his hands raised.
