He caught my eye and raised a brow—a silent taunt: This is the price of your disobedience.
I held his gaze, expression unreadable: As long as your little canary stays in her cage, I don't care.
As we walked out, Jesse caught my arm, halting me in front of the other directors.
"I'm flying to the Middle East tomorrow," he announced loudly. "You and Joanna need to get along. She's new to this. Make sure you mentor her properly."
A ripple of shock went through the bystanders. Asking the wife to train the mistress? Unheard of. A public humiliation.
I lowered my gaze, masking the cold fury burning in my chest.
Patrick, unable to stomach the scene, glared at his grandson, knuckles white on his cane. But Jesse didn't flinch. He wasn't afraid of the old man anymore.
He leaned down to my ear, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper.
"Grandpa is old, Tessa. He won't be around to protect you forever. If you know what's good for you, don't play any tricks while I'm gone."
My love for Jesse had withered years ago—nothing but cold ash. His threats held no power over me.
"Fine," I said, steady. "I won't make things difficult for Joanna. I'll even ensure she's... taken care of."