Chapter 1
I’m Done Kingston, Hawthorne Manor. Eleanor Bennett stood silently before the floor-to-ceiling windows, her pale face reflecting a deep exhaustion that felt almost like a weight. Yesterday marked three years since she had married Samuel Hawthorne. Yet, instead of celebrating, she found herself scrolling through social media where the headlines screamed of her husband wrapped in an intimate embrace with Isabella Caldwell, the hottest starlet in Hollywood. Images of them gazing longingly at each other and whispering sweet nothings pierced her heart like daggers. Rumors buzzed that Samuel had been in love with Isabella for years. Others suggested their public display of affection was just a prelude to a wedding no one in the gossip columns could ignore. Eleanor watched it all unfold with a cold heart. Samuel had never acknowledged her in public, never remembered their anniversary, yet chose that very day to rendezvous with another woman. What exactly did he consider her—a ghost in his life? The door creaked open. Eleanor whipped around, her breath hitching at the sight of him. Samuel Hawthorne, tousled and detached, strode in without so much as a glance in her direction. In that moment, the familiar sharp angles of his face, which she had longed to trace with her fingertips, felt suddenly alien, like a stranger across a crowded room. After more than a thousand days and nights, she finally grasped the truth: she had been fooling herself into thinking his icy demeanor would eventually thaw with patience. Could she keep holding on? The question hung heavy over her. Maybe in the end, it would only lead to being pushed out of his life entirely. “Samuel Hawthorne, let’s get a divorce.” The words came out hoarse, almost a whisper. He paused, a flicker of something passing through his usually unreadable face. Three years of marriage, and what had he offered her? A wall of indifference. He knew her all too well: obedient, understanding, supportive—she was practically a doormat, ever ready to bear the weight of his indifference. Divorce? Wasn’t she the one who had insisted on marrying him despite knowing he was emotionally unavailable? She had endured three years of soulless companionship, convinced it would change. If she truly wanted a divorce, would she have waited this long? “Is this because of what’s trending online?” His voice lacked any inflection as he broke the silence, the words rolling off him like water off a duck's back. Eleanor clenched her fists, struggling to maintain composure. “You don’t have anything to say to me?” “Nothing to explain.” He cut her off, sinking into a nearby chair. His brows knitted slightly, but his tone remained frostbitten. “What you see is what you get.” A laugh bubbled up unexpectedly, a sound tinged with disbelief. How had she ever held out hope for him? They had been childhood sweethearts—a pairing destined for an engaged future. Instead, fate had dealt its hand poorly, and Isabella had left for greener pastures abroad. An accidental marriage to Samuel had landed Eleanor in this bleak limbo of unfulfilled dreams. A pang of heartache clawed at her insides. She pressed her hands against her chest, trying to quell the overwhelming sadness. She sucked in a shaky breath, refusing to show weakness before him. “So all those rumors are true,” she pressed on. Eleanor loved him—desperately. If he requested it, she'd let him go in pursuit of happiness. But Samuel’s eyes only flickered with annoyance before he turned to walk away, leaving her with a cold remark: “You talk too much.” As he walked away, she felt a sting of tears pooling in her eyes. Even as she straightened herself, the ache in her heart intensified. Just as the pain became unbearable and she opened her mouth to call for help, the phone rang. Samuel answered. His expression twisted into a worried frown as the voice on the other end spoke urgently. “Samuel, my head is killing me… I think I’m dying…” “I’m on my way.” He hastily hung up and rushed for the door, leaving Eleanor stunned. A cocktail of anxiety and desperation painted his features—this was a version of him she had never witnessed. “Samuel…” she managed, her words choking in her throat. Her body felt weak, trembling as she pleaded, “Help me, call an ambulance.” He stood still, scanning her with an ice-cold gaze. “How convenient,” he replied, his voice laced with frost. “Isabella falls ill just as I get a call from her.” Eleanor sensed the chill in his tone. “Being Mrs. Hawthorne means learning to mind your business.” With that, he shrugged off her grasp and walked out, leaving her aching for him to look back, even just once. The door slammed shut with a heavy thud; the finality of it made her heart lurch. Eleanor crumpled to the floor, pain shooting through her chest like a thousand needles, unable to stop the trembling in her body. Her phone lay just out of reach on the table, mere steps away, but it felt insurmountable. She dragged her heavy body toward it, finally grasping it, dialing emergency services. Just as she relayed her location, darkness enveloped her, and she blacked out. --- The next morning, noise roused her from an uncomfortable oblivion. Eleanor squinted at her phone; notifications flashed across the screen, suffocating her in a frenzy of headlines. —Samuel Hawthorne seen leaving a late-night bender with Isabella Caldwell. —Isabella reportedly spent the night at Hawthorne Manor, leaving solo in the morning. —Rumors swirl: have Samuel and Isabella moved in together? Each photo struck her deeper than the last, the reality sending her into a spiral. Samuel had brought Isabella to their home—their sanctum. How could he? Then came the text notifications. “Eleanor, sorry to hear you’re not happy with the headlines. Interior design rotates; it was never truly yours and had to be given back eventually.” “Samuel isn’t going to divorce you; he’s simply safeguarding his reputation. Living without love must be just awful for you.” The unfamiliar number was unmistakable: Isabella Caldwell. Was that taunting or mere arrogance? Suddenly, the door creaked open. Samuel stepped inside, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed her pale face, sensing her state was not an act. “What happened?” he asked, his disinterest masked by feigned concern. “Nothing good,” she replied weakly, drained of any fight left in her. “Samuel, we need to get a divorce.” The conviction in her voice shook him. He didn’t take her seriously, dismissing her with a flick of his hand. In his mindset, a woman wouldn’t give up a life of luxury so easily—certainly not her. “Stop joking, I—” “No more excuses. We’ll file the papers soon.” She interrupted him, turning her back, not wanting to see his reaction. Silence filled the room as she heard his footsteps retreat. With a bitter smile curving her lips, Eleanor picked up her phone, scrolling through the contacts until she landed on one she'd long neglected. “Dad, I’m done.”
Chapter 2
**Divorce Agreement** “Since you understand, just come back.” “Dad’s getting old, and so many things are beyond his reach. The company can’t be leaderless for a single day. With you here, I can find some peace of mind.” Eleanor Bennett felt a mix of emotions flood her heart at her father’s frail voice on the other end of the line. For Samuel Hawthorne, she had sacrificed almost everything—family, career, future. And now… One foolish mistake was enough for a lifetime. “Fine.” … **Bennett Consortium.** Thomas Kingsley, a fixture in the company, was waiting anxiously at the entrance. “You finally made it, Eleanor. The Bennett Consortium is in dire need of some salvation.” “What’s going on?” Eleanor asked, puzzled. Thomas hesitated, shaking his head with a sigh. Suddenly, a raucous cheer erupted from a group spilling out of the elevator, their arms around each other, debating lunch plans and where to go dancing that night. “Uncle Thomas, are they all employees here?” “Yes,” he nodded. “But let’s head up and check in with Henry’s agent first. I’ll fill you in on the rest when we get a moment.” Eleanor paused as they reached the elevator. “Let’s take the stairs.” With each floor they climbed, Eleanor detoured to peek into different departments. What she saw was chaos—most managers were absent, and a significant portion of the staff had abandoned their posts. Some had turned the workplace into a drinking and gambling den. As they approached Henry's office, she frowned and asked, “Are you people really letting this go on under Henry’s watch?” “Uh…” Thomas struggled to articulate his frustration. “Old Henry is sick; Robert Harrison is calling the shots now, and we’re all pretty much powerless.” Eleanor stayed silent. She pushed open the door to Henry's office and was hit by a wall of smoke. Robert Harrison, flanked by a few others, were lounging around, drinking and laughing without a care in the world. “Who walks in without knocking?” Robert scowled, but then his eyes roamed over Eleanor like a predator spotting prey. “Old Thomas, looks like your eyes are still sharp. This stunning beauty—can you handle her?” “Robert, control yourself. This is Eleanor…” Thomas began. “Uncle Thomas, don’t get riled up,” she said, cutting him off. Seeing Thomas taking heavy breaths, struggling to contain his anger, she patted his shoulder gently. Turning back to Robert, she tossed out casually, “Agent Robert, you’re fired.” “What?!” Robert burst out laughing, as if she’d just told the most ridiculous joke. “You think you can fire me, little girl? Who do you think you are?” Eleanor said nothing. She scanned the other people in the room, then turned to Thomas. “Uncle Thomas, could you please compile a list of who’s not at their desks right now? I want them all fired.” She would rather have an empty Bennett Group than a hundred leeches. Robert let out a cold laugh. “Fired? That’s a bold statement.” “Shut up, girl…” Robert started. “Robert, this is Henry’s daughter, Eleanor Bennett. You’d better show some respect,” Thomas interrupted, frustration clear in his voice. Shock washed over everyone in the room. The daughter of Henry Bennett—who graduated from Kingston University with dual master’s degrees in finance and management—was known as a business prodigy. At eighteen, she had interned at the company and closed three billion-dollar deals in just a month. Within a year, she had single-handedly increased the company’s value tenfold, making it one of the top firms in the country. Eleanor's legacy was still talked about in awe. But now, Robert and his crew were filled with skepticism. She had vanished for three years, and now she was back? After a long silence, Robert regained his composure. This woman wasn’t easy to shake. “I’m Henry’s appointed agent, and you can’t fire me,” he claimed defiantly. “True, but my father can.” Eleanor took a document with Richard Bennett’s signature from her bag and slapped it down on the desk in front of Robert. “Robert, it’s time for you to leave.” “Eleanor, don’t push your luck.” “Uncle Thomas, please notify Security. If anyone refuses to leave, I want them escorted out,” she instructed firmly. “Understood,” Thomas nodded and stepped out. Robert and his group stood frozen, their brains racing. Getting fired was one thing; being thrown out was entirely another. They didn’t want to escalate matters. Finally, Robert glared at Eleanor, teeth clenched. “Fine. Just wait. You’ll pay for this.” He stormed out with his colleagues. The office, once filled with shouts and laughter, fell silent. Eleanor’s striking eyes sparkled with determination. She vowed to protect the Bennett Consortium, her father’s life work. But first, she needed to deal with her personal life. … **Hawthorne Manor.** Eleanor stepped inside and immediately spotted Olivia Whitaker, Henry Hawthorne, and Clara Hawthorne chatting away in the living room, but Samuel was nowhere in sight. “What time do you call this? Where have you been?” Henry’s voice dripped with accusation, lacking respect for his sister-in-law. Olivia joined in with a sneer. “Every time I see you, I get annoyed. You’ve been married to Samuel for years, yet not even a whisper of a baby. Are you trying to ensure the Hawthorne line goes extinct?” The implication stung. Samuel barely came home, and when he did, he locked himself away in his study. Eleanor wanted kids, hadn’t she? But with their relationship in tatters, it was just a fantasy. Ignoring their barbs, she turned to leave. “Wow, a real clapper of a hen. Samuel must feel like he drew the short straw marrying you,” Olivia's voice cut through the air like a knife. Eleanor stopped in her tracks. Since the day she married Samuel, this family had shown her disdain, relentless in their ridicule. She was done taking it. With a flicker of fire in her eyes, she turned back to face Olivia and her daughters. “Fine, you call me a hen that doesn’t lay eggs, but what’s that make you? A three-time loser who still hasn’t produced a healthy child after two miscarriages? Just a hen that’s even worse.” Olivia gasped, clearly shocked that Eleanor had verbally defended herself. “You… how dare you?” Olivia sputtered, unable to find words amidst her fury. Clara rushed in beside her mother, gently patting her back while another sister brought her a glass of water. After a false semblance of calm returned to Olivia, Clara barked at Eleanor, “You better watch your mouth. If my brother hears about this, he might just take you to court for divorce!” Divorce. Eleanor felt a rush of relief at the thought. With someone as cold-hearted and indifferent as Samuel, and in a family that looked down on her, she’d welcome the chance. “Please, give this to Samuel Hawthorne,” Eleanor said, pulling out a divorce agreement from her bag. This took them by surprise. She really intended to divorce him? At first stunned, Olivia’s expression shifted from shock to calm calculation. “Oh, so you think that if you can’t win Samuel’s love, you’ll take half his fortune instead? Dream on, Eleanor. You won’t take a dime from the Hawthorne family.” “Mrs. Hawthorne, don’t project your greed onto me. The Hawthorne money? I wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole,” Eleanor shot back, a cold smile on her lips.
Chapter 3
**Chapter: The Fallout** The following day. Rumors about Samuel Hawthorne were swirling like wildfire across social media. A self-proclaimed insider, a popular blogger, fired off tweet after tweet, praising the passionate romance between Samuel Hawthorne and Isabella Caldwell. Yet, his words subtly implied something much darker: the reason these two had been going strong for years without tying the knot was entirely due to a woman named Eleanor Bennett. It was Eleanor who had meddled in their relationship, continually entwining herself in Samuel's life. Instantly, the internet erupted with venomous backlash against Eleanor Bennett. --- **Bennett Consortium Headquarters.** Eleanor was focused, pouring over a stack of documents. Across from her, Edward Fletcher was fuming, his cheeks flushed with anger. “Eleanor, someone’s definitely pulling strings here. You’ve seen the way they’re trashing you online. Why aren’t you doing anything about it?” “Oh, and what do you suppose I do? Tell them to hush, and they’ll magically obey?” She said, her tone cool and detached. “Why aren’t you even reacting?” Edward protested, momentarily lost for words. It was true—what people said online was none of her business. But it mattered to him. Without another word, Edward abruptly stood, storming out of the Bennett Consortium. As he reached for his phone, he dialed a contact with determination. “Get in touch with our media friends from Fletcher Group. I’ve got a situation that needs urgent attention.” --- Just hours later, the narrative flipped on its head. Reports surfaced, confirming that Samuel Hawthorne was married—something the world had yet to realize. Other outlets exposed the wedding certificate between him and Eleanor Bennett. Suddenly, Isabella Caldwell went from a sympathetic victim to being labeled a homewrecker, her career plummeting. Samuel, scanning through the headlines, felt a storm brewing behind his narrowed eyes. The only one with access to that marriage certificate was Eleanor Bennett. He had massively underestimated her. He punched in Eleanor’s number and said coldly, “We need to talk at my home in an hour.” “Fine,” she replied, her voice steady. --- **Hawthorne Manor.** Eleanor arrived right on time. Her gaze fell on the divorce papers laid out neatly on the coffee table. Just as she reached for the pen, Samuel’s crisp voice sliced through the air. “I haven’t signed yet.” So, why the hell did he call her over? “I was curious why you’d choose to walk away with nothing,” he mused, an icy smirk forming on his lips. “Turns out you have a bigger appetite. Money doesn't fulfill you; you want to see me and Isabella brought to ruin.” Eleanor tilted her head, exasperated. “Samuel, if you have something to say, just say it. No need for the theatrics.” Her feigned innocence only fueled his rage further. In one swift motion, he stood, storming over to her. He gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his glare. “You can’t honestly sit there and tell me you didn't orchestrate this. First, revealing your identity as Mrs. Hawthorne, then letting everyone know Isabella’s the other woman. You’re out for revenge.” At that, Eleanor's confusion morphed into clarity as she glanced at her phone. No explanations were necessary; she had no intention of defending herself. What she felt couldn’t even be described—only an icy loneliness. “You think I can do anything about your assumptions?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Eleanor Bennett, you’re even more sinister than I imagined,” Samuel’s words dripped with disdain. And with that, Eleanor snapped, her patience wearing thin. “If being honest makes me evil, then I can’t help it—it's just the truth. But what about Isabella Caldwell? Why are people accusing me of breaking you apart? This unraveling would never have happened if she hadn’t been stirring the pot behind the scenes.” For a moment, Samuel fell silent. He understood Isabella's manipulations better than anyone. He was Samuel Hawthorne, the president of Hawthorne Group, a name recognized in every media outlet. Over the years, any mention of him would be prefaced with a respectful heads-up from reporters. But now? Those days were gone. Someone had incited this chaos, and he knew that someone was Isabella. He recalled vividly the girl she once was—the one who put her life on the line to save him years ago during that car accident, diving into danger to free him from a fiery wreck. She had been a fearless kid, forever weaving heroics into his memories. He had promised to protect her forever. Yet somehow, he lost track of her. Years later, in a twist of fate at a lavish gala, he found her again, skinning his heart open upon seeing the scar on her neck—a grim reminder of his careless past. But fate had twisted once more. Just when he thought he had a chance to make amends, she vanished overseas. He had once again failed her. He had married Eleanor, shattering Isabella’s heart in the process. Now, he realized Isabella would do just about anything to hold onto him. But it was Eleanor, in this moment, who truly infuriated him. Calming himself, Samuel sank into a nearby chair, his shoulders stiff. The chill in his voice echoed like ice. “Take down every negative thing online about Isabella. After the divorce, you can keep this house and five million as compensation. If not?” He leaned forward, voice low and menacing. “I won’t sign, and you’re stuck in your hollow marriage.” Eleanor, taking in his words, had never anticipated Samuel would threaten her with their divorce for Isabella’s sake. This was the man she had loved for a decade. Such a twisted sense of justice. She suddenly felt her blind devotion diluting. “Fine. I’ll agree to your terms.” She slid the divorce papers across the table, pushing a pen towards him. “Just sign, that’s all I ask.” You’d think that with all those riches at stake, no one could be this heartless. But in her heart, she sensed a deeper scheme lingering. “First, resolve your issues with Isabella, then—” “Sign the papers. Tomorrow morning, we’ll meet at the courthouse.” She interjected, unyielding. She understood his hesitation perfectly. “I promise to give you a satisfactory answer tomorrow regarding Isabella. If I don’t, you can dispute the divorce all you want.” “Deal.” Samuel replied, tone begrudgingly resigned. With a sharp flick of his pen, he scrawled his name at the bottom of the divorce agreement, then lifted his gaze, a hard edge to his stare. “Just make sure you come through.”
Chapter 4
**Ten Years of Youth, Down the Drain** The sun had just begun to rise over the city, casting a soft glow on the quiet streets outside Fletcher Group's office. Edward Fletcher had just parked his car when he spotted Eleanor Bennett standing alone by the curb. Her silhouette was framed against the dawn, and Edward’s heart sank at the sight of her exhausted frame. He hurried over, shrugging off his jacket and draping it around her shoulders. "You couldn’t at least give me a heads-up that you were coming?" His concern was palpable, etched into every line on his face. Eleanor forced a weary smile, yet her voice barely above a whisper. "This online mess—was it you?" “Wait, what?” He shook his head, taken aback. “I didn’t—” "I had someone look into it. Those outlets only published because you tipped them off." Her eyes, though tired, burned with a fierce intensity. Edward understood Eleanor didn’t play dirty. She preferred the straight-and-narrow path, avoiding the grit of petty rivalries. But now, faced with this calamity, he found himself cornered. “Okay, fine. It was me. I thought I was helping you. And as for Isabella Caldwell…” "Just get those articles pulled. And make sure those tabloids release a statement saying Samuel Hawthorne and I are divorced, and Isabella was never the other woman." “Why?” His mind raced, searching for logic. Eleanor met his gaze, serene and determined. “Because that’s the only way I can finally move on.” Edward’s brow furrowed, confusion mingling with concern. He watched Eleanor as she turned and walked away, her silhouette fading in the morning light. “Where are you going?” he called after her. “To get a divorce.” In that moment, everything clicked for Edward. After a quick series of phone calls to the media, he slid into his car and drove toward Civic Hall. Upon arriving, his heart lifted at the sight of Eleanor. “I came to back you up. I won’t let that jerk of an ex-husband push you around.” Push her around? Samuel Hawthorne wouldn't escalate things to that degree; he simply didn’t love her anymore. “I don’t need your help, Edward.” Eleanor’s voice was tight, but then her eyes suddenly widened. Samuel strode in, and beside him, Isabella clung to his arm, her laugh ringing out like a siren’s call. Together, they looked like a couple heading to sign their marriage license. A low chuckle escaped Eleanor’s lips, bitter and dark. She had underestimated Samuel’s capacity for cruelty. He had always known how to drive a knife deep. "Samuel Hawthorne." Before Eleanor could utter another word, Edward surged forward, fists clenched and a snarl in his voice. "Is this your way of rubbing it in—still married and flaunting your next girlfriend?" “The prodigal Fletcher heir,” smirked Isabella, her voice dripping with mockery. "Isn’t it so sweet, you’re here to witness Eleanor’s next big move?" Eleanor had made quite the splash, ditching her marriage and landing a man like Edward Fletcher. Isabella’s unfiltered glee was infuriating. Samuel’s irritation bloomed further. He had thought they were finished, but her determination to divorce—and turn the page—steered his mind into a chaotic spiral of thoughts. “Already picking out wedding invitations?” Isabella joked, clearly on cloud nine about her cleared name and new love interests. Samuel, simmering with rage, couldn't hide his disgust. “You’re in such a hurry to end this? Let’s make it quick, then,” he snapped at Eleanor, impatience streaming through his words. She nodded, following him toward the service window. The divorce was a stark contrast to their wedding—just signatures on a paper, sealing a fate that had unraveled far too quickly. Once the papers were signed, Samuel shot a venomous glare at Eleanor. “Are you satisfied now?” “Couldn’t you say the same?” she answered, her resilience solid as steel. Outside Civic Hall, as they stepped into the brightness of day, their small group was immediately ambushed by reporters. “Edward! Are you here to finalize the divorce?” “Is this because of Isabella Hawthorne?” “Now that you're divorced, when can we expect the engagement announcement?!” Samuel’s face turned an ominous shade of red as questions bombarded them. Eleanor, now unchained and without the grips of a failed marriage, held the power to speak her truth. “Eleanor, I was wrong about you,” Samuel hissed, stepping closer, eyes seething. “This was all planned, wasn’t it? You wanted this revenge.” The accusations dripped from his lips, venomous and raw. He hardly paused to understand the reality of the situation, firmly believing in her malicious intent. Eleanor said nothing, silence her only shield. She didn’t feel the need to defend herself to the man who had betrayed her for years. Ten years of love now tarnished, thrown to the winds like worthless scraps. With a faint smile, she locked eyes with Samuel. “As the proud president of Hawthorne Group, maybe you should focus on the implications of infidelity on your board members.” Samuel scoffed, looking around at the eager reporters hanging on to every word—a spectacle he didn’t wish to partake in. “You’re overestimating your importance. Your little tricks aren’t worth a thing.” Without another word, Eleanor turned and walked away, leaving him seething in her wake. --- Inside the car, Eleanor stared blankly out the window as the city rushed past. Her thoughts churned. “Still love him, don’t you?” Edward's voice broke the thick tension hanging in the air. Love? Ten years of devotion—all down the drain. “I loved him once,” she replied with a smile, though that smile didn’t touch her eyes. “But I can’t keep loving someone who doesn’t want me.” They lapsed back into silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. “I need to get to my office,” Eleanor finally said, breaking the quiet. Their vehicle stopped in front of Bennett Consortium. As she stepped out, ready to face the day, she nearly collided with Thomas Kingsley, his expression a mix of relief and anxiety. “There you are! We’ve got a situation.” “What's up, Thomas?” Eleanor asked, her brow knitting together with concern. “It’s chaos—companies have heard you’re back in charge and are falling over themselves to partner up with us.” The buzz around Eleanor was palpable, the potential to rebuild Bennett Consortium shining bright as a beacon amidst the shadows of her past. “That sounds good.” “Sure, but we recently had massive layoffs. We’ve hired new folks, but they’re still figuring it out. It’s a lot to handle,” he lamented, shaking his head. He paused, an idea sparking. “Maybe we should close down a few subsidiaries? Like Bennett Films. It’s been a drain, and while we’ve found some talent, the profits just aren’t there.” “Who do we have signed with Bennett Films?” Eleanor cut in before Thomas could finish, her mind already fluffing with strategy. “Robert Harrison, Hannah White, Isabella Caldwell, and a few minor names,” he replied, his tone shifting to uncertainty. Isabella again? The world truly had a cruel sense of humor. Sticking with her now would only be a recipe for disaster. “Let’s end all contracts with Isabella Caldwell. I want her out,” Eleanor commanded firmly, her voice a blend of finality and resolve. This was her moment, and she intended to seize it.
Chapter 5
In Eleanor Bennett's Office. The door swung open with a force that echoed through the room, slamming against the wall. A shaky, thin voice broke the silence. “Eleanor, I still have a contract with the Bennett Consortium that isn’t up yet. You know I’m struggling right now, and to take advantage of me like this...” Isabella’s voice faltered and trailed off as she caught sight of a familiar figure standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows. She blinked in disbelief. “What are you doing here?” Eleanor Bennett. Bennett... Isabella’s mind raced, connecting dots she’d rather not face. No. It’s impossible. Eleanor Bennett had everything she could ever want. After enduring humiliation from the Hawthorne family without a word of protest, if she were in charge of the Bennett Consortium, pigs might as well fly. Suddenly, a laugh escaped Isabella’s lips, unabashedly mocking. She sank into the plush sofa, a smug smile dancing across her face as she regarded Eleanor with thinly veiled disdain. “So, you managed to snag a secretary position at Fletcher Group. Quite an achievement. Was it your rich boyfriend who got you in, or did you trade on your looks?” With Samuel Hawthorne out of the picture, Isabella felt free to drop her mask, letting her true self shine through. Eleanor’s eyes narrowed slightly in disappointment; how had Samuel not seen through this venomous facade? “I don’t need to explain how I got my job to you,” Eleanor replied coolly, her calm voice laced with subtle sarcasm. “But tell me, Isabella, how many men have it taken for you to hold onto your status as a fading star in the entertainment world? I bet even you’ve lost track.” “You—" Isabella spluttered, anger flashing in her eyes. Under Eleanor’s piercing gaze, the heat of her fury began to wane, replaced by an unfamiliar twinge of uncertainty. “Do you know something I don’t?” She couldn’t let anything derail her plans, not after all the trouble she’d gone through to reach this moment. “Eleanor, you and Samuel are already divorced. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t…” Without warning, Isabella softened her tone, feigning vulnerability. “If there’s nothing else, I need you to leave.” Eleanor barely suppressed a scoff. Girls like Isabella didn’t deserve a second of her time or energy. To her surprise, Isabella showed no intention of leaving. Instead, she poured herself a glass of water and leaned back, claiming dominion over the room. “I believe we have some important matters to discuss, Eleanor. You’re the one who should be making an exit.” Isabella had seriously miscalculated her move. Eleanor couldn’t fathom what Samuel saw in her. Just then, a knock on the door cut through the tension, and Thomas entered with a hurried stride. “Eleanor, the recruitment fair is about to start. HR is wondering when you’ll be there.” “I’ll be there on time,” she assured him. “Got it.” As Thomas left, Isabella paled, her mouth hanging open in disbelief as she stared at Eleanor, a wild mix of shock and fury swirling in her eyes. “You’re Eleanor Bennett.” She pushed herself to her feet, advancing on Eleanor with an intensity that bridged anger and desperation. “This whole time, you’ve been playing me. You knew—” “I have no idea what makes you think I ever had anything to discuss with you,” Eleanor interrupted blandly, chillingly direct. “Am I finally deemed worthy to ask you to leave?” “I… you…” Isabella’s complexion fluctuated between rage and defeat, speech evaporating from her. How had the Bennett Consortium fallen into Eleanor’s hands? It was unfathomable. After a long silence, Isabella took a deep breath, barely managing to voice her suspicions. “What’s your connection to the Bennett Consortium?” Eleanor chuckled softly, a flicker of disdain in her gaze. “Isabella, my last name is Bennett. I hope that clears things up for you.” The words hit Isabella like a slap. “How can— No… it can’t be… You’re just the daughter of a fallen family. How could you possibly be the heiress of the Bennett Consortium?” Rising from her chair, Eleanor brushed aside Isabella’s incredulous gaze. “I don’t know where you got your information, Isabella. Obviously, you’re in the dark. I’m not looking to discuss your offenses further; just do me a favor and leave. I don’t have time for this distraction.” With that, Eleanor turned on her heel and exited the office, leaving Isabella behind, disoriented and questioning everything. “How many people are here today?” As Eleanor strode down the hallway, her expression grew serious as she addressed Thomas, who had followed closely behind. “About a hundred, Eleanor. This is a big deal,” Thomas said, concern etched on his face. Three years earlier, he’d seen Eleanor deftly navigate challenges and achieve incredible milestones for the company. Yet in terms of management, she was still relatively inexperienced. Worries churned in his mind; he hoped Eleanor could handle the pressure. Eleanor, however, walked with the confidence of someone who had mastered the game. She swung open the conference room doors and stepped confidently onto the stage. “Welcome, everyone. I’m Eleanor Bennett, head of the Bennett Group, and I’ll be conducting your interviews today.” Her voice rang out, commanding the room instantly. All eyes fixed on the young woman whose presence exuded authority. “You’ve made it through the rigorous selection process to be here, which speaks volumes about your caliber. My expectations are straightforward: One, be responsible and accountable. Two, have ambition and the capability to create value for this company.” With every word, Eleanor spoke eloquently, poised far beyond her years, her confidence unshakeable. From the sidelines, Thomas watched in awe, his admiration growing for the woman he had known since childhood. Just like her father, Henry. As the session progressed, Eleanor asked selective questions, noticing those who rose to the occasion. The successful candidates moved onto the next phase, while she offered encouragement to those who wouldn’t be advancing. Witnessing Eleanor navigate the process smoothly, Thomas began to relax. Those rejected left feeling inspired, vowing to return stronger and more prepared for the Bennett Group’s challenges. After the final screening, only ten candidates remained. Eleanor had already scoured their resumes, impressed by diverse educational backgrounds and experience levels. Among them were standouts: one fresh from a top university who had interned at a Fortune 500, another seasoned pro from a corporate background, and lastly, a single mother who had just finished nursing her infant. While the resume of the single mother didn’t shine as brightly, she impressively matched the top candidates’ performance, standing out in her own right.
There are limited chapters to put here, click the button below to continue reading "Breaking Free from Silent Chains"
(It will automatically jump to the book when you open the app).
❤️Click to read more exciting content❤️