The managers rushed from the room as quickly as possible, eager to be free from Sean's anger. Andy stayed seated, looking nervously between Sean and Catherine.

"Yes, Mr. Blair?" Andy asked.

​​

"I put you in charge for a reason," Sean said. "I thought I made it clear that I wanted you to turn this company around. If you're not up to the task, I can call Bill instead."

"No sir, that's not necessary," Andy said.

"I hope not," Sean said. "I won't give you a third chance."

"I'll have Mrs. Blair's changes taken care of within the next two days," Andy said quickly.

"I hope so," Sean replied coolly. "That's all."

"Thank you, sir," Andy said.

He stood and rushed from the room, leaving Catherine alone with Sean. She looked up at him from her chair, and he smiled down at her. A wave of irritation flooded through her.

"Why did you do that?" she asked him.

His brow wrinkled in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"You barged in on my meeting and completely undermined my authority," she snapped. "These people already think I'm a joke. Now all they're going to talk about is how I had to call my husband to come to defend me."

Sean's eyes brightened at the word husband, but his face remained serious. "They were bullying you," he said.

"And I was handling it," she replied. "I don't need you to fight my battles for me."

His face darkened, "You're too naïve. These aren't your classmates, and this isn't some schoolyard argument. Some of these people are dangerous."

"I can handle them," she repeated.

"I'm not going to let you put yourself at risk," he replied.

She sighed, "You can't have this both ways, Sean."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You treat me like a child, and yet you want me to be your wife," she answered. "I can't be both. If I'm your wife, you have to treat me as your equal."

His eyes flashed, and he stared at her with such intensity she felt her cheeks growing hot. He stepped toward her, grabbing her chin in his hand. He lifted her head and looked deep into her eyes.

"You're my wife," he said, his voice hoarse. "It's my job to defend you."

She shivered, wishing she could look away. He made it sound like it was a life or death situation—but it was just business. She bit her tongue and dug her nails into her palms.

"I have work to do," she finally said.

"I know," he answered. "I have to go handle a few things, but then I want you to walk me through your plan. I'm sure the other board members are going to want to know about all the changes you're making."

She sighed. It was impossible to refuse him.

"I'll be in my office," she said.

He finally released his grip on her chin, and she hurried back to her office, feeling irritated and nervous. As she walked back to her office, she felt dozens of unfriendly eyes watching her. She shivered and walked faster—eager to escape the glares of the company's employees.

Outside her office, she forced herself to take a deep breath. Everyone at school had looked at her the same way, and it had never bothered her—there was no reason to let the employees rattle her. She opened the door to her office and gasped.

The file carts had been knocked over, and the files were scattered all over the small room. A pile of dirt and broken clay sat on top of her desk, and the potted palm Alan gave her had been stuffed in the trash. A pink post-it note was stuck to her computer. In bold, block writing, someone had written Leave, bitch. Her hands trembled, and her legs went weak. She sank into the creaky desk chair and stared at the room in despair.

She took a deep breath and looked around the room again. The damage wasn't that bad. Clearly, the person who did it just wanted to scare her. She checked the time on her phone and jumped to her feet. She'd told Sean to meet her in her office—if he walked in to find the room ransacked, he'd freak out.

She chewed her lip and grabbed the trashcan from under her desk. Quickly, she began to sweep the dirt and shattered ceramic into the bin. If Sean thinks I'm in any sort of danger here, he'll lock me up at home again, she thought. I can't let him do that—not when I have so much at stake here.

Replacing the bin beneath the desk, she tore the post-it note from her computer, crumpled it up, and put it in the trash. She ran to the first cart, lifted it upright, and began piling it with files. She didn't have time to alphabetize them—she just needed them to look neat. She finished with the first part and began on the second, hoping Sean's business would take a while.

***

Without waiting for a reply, Sean opened the door to Lawson's office. Lawson sat behind his desk with the phone pressed to his ear. He froze when he saw Sean.

"I'm going to have to call you back," he said.

A shrill voice sounded through the phone—though Sean stood several feet away, he could hear the voice perfectly.

"Tell your wife, you'll have to complain to her later," Sean said, cooly. "We need to talk."

Lawson repeated the message and hung up the phone. His eyes bulged, and a sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. He straightened in his chair, tugging nervously at his tie.

"What can I help you with, Mr. Blair?" he asked.

"I'm thinking about taking legal action against you," Sean said, settling into a chair.

"What do you mean?" Lawson asked, his eyes bulging even more.

"I invested in this company in good faith," Sean said. "And now I find out you're doing your best to make it fail. I believe my lawyers would call it defrauded."

"Fail?" Lawson asked. "Of course, I don't want it to fail."

"Don't you?" Sean asked. "It seems to me you're turning the Department Managers against Andy Jones and Catherine. How can a company succeed if its employees are sabotaging it?"

"I—they're—we're," Lawson stammered.

"You're what?" Sean asked.

"We're not sabotaging anything," Lawson said.

"I hope that's true," Sean replied. "But I have my eye on you. One wrong step, and you're going to wish you'd never set foot in Feather Textile Corporation. Do I make myself clear?"

Lawson swallowed hard, "Yes, you do."

"Fantastic," Sean smiled. "Let's hope we don't have to have another one of these little chats."

He stood and strode from the room, slamming the door shut behind him.