Chapter 2 - THE CORPORATE EXILE
By ten o'clock that morning,
the heat was no longer just outside;
it was radiating from the walls of Arrowhead Distribution.
Douglas pulled into the parking lot in his company-issued Lexus,
trying to ignore the stares of the employees who were usually terrified of him.
He walked toward the glass entrance,
straightening his tie and trying to reclaim the mask of the Regional Director.
But as he reached for the card reader with his corporate badge,
the light flashed a bright,
angry red.
He tried again,
frantically swiping the plastic against the sensor,
his heart hammering against his ribs.
“Problem,
Mr. Miller?”
a voice asked from behind him.
He turned to see two security guards standing by the fountain,
their arms crossed and their expressions unreadable.
“My badge isn't working,”
Douglas snapped,
trying to hide the fear rising in his throat.
“I need to get to my office immediately;
I have a meeting with the investors from Atlanta.”
One of the guards stepped forward,
holding out a cardboard box.
“You don't have an office here anymore,
sir.”
“Orders came down from the CEO an hour ago.”
“Your employment has been terminated for gross negligence and conduct unbecoming of the firm.”
Douglas stood frozen,
his mouth hanging open as the reality of his exile began to sink in.
“I’m the Regional Director!”
he shouted,
his voice echoing across the pristine lobby.
“I’m the owner’s husband!”
“You’re an employee who forgot who signed his checks,”
I said,
stepping through the doors and standing behind the security team.
I was wearing a new dress,
charcoal gray and sharp as a razor,
looking every bit the woman who had built this empire from nothing.
“Your corporate card was declined at the gas station this morning,
wasn't it,
Douglas?”
“I saw the alert on my phone.”
He looked at me,
his eyes pleading,
searching for the soft,
forgiving wife he had manipulated for so long.
“Cora,
you can’t do this to me in front of everyone,”
he whispered,
his dignity crumbling with every passing second.
“You did it to yourself when you stood by and watched your mother rip my life apart,”
I replied,
my voice carrying to every corner of the room.
“The Lexus stays here;
it’s company property.”
“There’s a bus stop half a mile down the road.”
I watched him take the cardboard box,
which contained nothing but a few pens and a framed photo of us that I had already cracked.
He looked like a broken man,
but I knew better;
he was a parasite who had finally run out of blood to drink.
As he walked away,
his footsteps heavy on the hot asphalt,
I felt the first breath of true freedom in years.
But as I turned back to my office,
my accountant was waiting with a folder that would turn my victory into a war.
May you like
Douglas hadn't just been a coward;
he had been a thief.
