Chosen Her? Face My Fiery Wrath

Blake POV:

Jaden swept into the company cafeteria like a malevolent goddess descending upon a mortal feast. The cheerful lunchtime chatter died down as heads turned, tracking her imperious path toward the hot food line.

She surveyed the carefully prepared trays of food with a look of profound disgust.

"What is this?" she asked the chef behind the counter, poking a piece of roasted chicken with her long, red fingernail. "Is this even organic?"

The chef, a burly man with kind eyes and 'Austen' embroidered on his uniform, remained professional. "It's locally sourced, ma'am. Very fresh."

Jaden scoffed. She pulled a small, jewel-encrusted container from her ridiculously expensive Birkin bag. "No, thank you. I brought my own."

She opened the container, revealing a small portion of what looked like glistening, black fish eggs. Caviar.

"I can't be expected to eat... that," she said, waving a dismissive hand at the food meant for hundreds of employees. "But I'm feeling generous. I'll share."

Before anyone could react, she moved to dump the entire container of caviar into the large pan of pasta salad on the buffet line.

"Ma'am, stop!" Austen moved with surprising speed, placing a firm hand over the pan, blocking her. His voice was calm but solid as a rock. "You can't do that."

"Excuse me?" Jaden's voice went shrill.

"Company policy. Health and safety regulations," Austen stated clearly. "We can't have outside food, especially potential allergens, mixed with the general service. We could have an employee with a severe fish allergy. It's a massive liability."

He was right. It was rule number one in food service. A rule I had helped write into the company's operational manual.

Jaden looked at him as if he were a bug she was about to squash. "Do you have any idea how much this costs?" she sneered, shaking the tub of caviar. "This little snack is worth more than your entire weekly salary. I am improving your pathetic salad."

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to step away from the food line," Austen said, his tone unwavering. He was a pillar of calm professionalism against her storm of entitlement.

"You'll ask me nothing," she hissed, her face contorting with rage at being denied.

Instead of backing down, she did something so unbelievably reckless it took my breath away. She whipped out her phone and hit a speed dial. A second later, Connor's face appeared on the screen.

The background was unmistakable. It was the main conference room, the one with the panoramic view of the city. He was in the middle of the pitch. The pitch to Apex Ventures, the one that could secure our next five years of funding.

"Connor, darling," Jaden whined, her voice instantly transformed into that of a wounded child. "They're being so mean to me."

Connor's expression, initially focused and serious, softened into one of indulgent concern. "Jaden? What's wrong? I'm in the middle of something."

"I know, I'm so sorry to bother you," she said, angling the phone so he could see the stoic chef and the general unease in the cafeteria. "But your staff... they're ganging up on me. This man," she pointed her phone at Austen, "he won't let me have lunch. He's yelling at me."

Austen hadn't raised his voice once.

"What?" Connor's brow furrowed. "Give him the phone."

Jaden's lips curled into a triumphant smirk as she held the phone out to Austen. "The CEO wants a word with you."

Austen took the phone, his face impassive. I could hear Connor's voice, no longer warm and indulgent, but cold and sharp.

"What do you think you're doing?" Connor's voice crackled through the small speaker. "Let her do whatever she wants. Do you understand me?"

Austen's jaw tightened. "Sir, with all due respect, it's a violation of the health code. It's a serious safety risk."

"I don't care about the health code!" Connor's voice rose, laced with irritation. "I care about Jaden being happy. Now apologize to her and give her whatever she wants. Is that clear?"

The entire cafeteria was silent, watching this public execution. Employees stood frozen, trays in hand, their faces a mixture of fear and disbelief.

The phone was handed back to Jaden. She was practically vibrating with glee.

"You see?" she whispered to Austen.

Then, she turned the phone's camera around, panning across the faces of the silent, watching employees, finally settling on me. I had followed her down, my hand still throbbing, needing to see how this played out.

"Connor, they're all just staring! They're all on his side!" she cried, a fake sob catching in her throat. "It's like they all hate me. That girl from the lobby is here too, the one who burned herself. I think she's their ringleader!"

Connor' s face, projected on the small screen, hardened. He was no longer just annoyed; he was furious. Furious that this was interrupting his big moment. Furious that his authority was being questioned. Furious at me for being there.

The screen flickered, Jaden deliberately tilted the phone, giving a glimpse of the men in suits sitting across from Connor at the conference table. The investors. He was shaming his own staff, live, in front of the people who held the company's future in their hands, all to placate a manipulative bully.

The betrayal was a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs. This wasn't about a spilled coffee or a tub of caviar anymore. This was about a fundamental flaw in his leadership, a blind spot so vast it threatened to swallow our entire company.

"That's it," Connor's voice was ice. He addressed the entire cafeteria through the phone's speaker. "Every single one of you will apologize to Ms. Juarez. Right now. You will line up and you will tell her you are sorry for upsetting her."

He looked directly into the camera, his eyes finding mine. "You. The junior developer. You start. Apologize to Jaden. Now."

The world seemed to slow down. The low hum of the refrigerators, the distant clatter of a dropped fork, the blood pounding in my ears. He was ordering me, the co-founder of his company, his fiancée, to publicly humiliate myself for this woman. He was choosing her, in this moment, over everything. Over our employees' dignity. Over our company's integrity. Over me.

The pact was broken. The dream of the company we were supposed to build together shattered into a million pieces.

I took a step forward, moving into the center of the phone's view. I held up my red, scalded hand, the skin already starting to blister. The pain was a dull, distant throb compared to the gaping wound in my chest.

My voice, when I spoke, was dangerously quiet.

"Connor," I said, my eyes locked on his digital image. "Are you sure? Are you absolutely, positively sure that's the order you want to give me?"