"Which is this: Ms. Simmons, you gather up these AI-generated photos and walk out of here."
I stepped toward her, looked her straight in the eye, and seized the wrist she'd rested on the edge of the desk. I squeezed. Hard.
"Ow ow ow, that hurts!" She let out an exaggerated shriek. "Ben, do you see what this woman is? Are you really going to sign her?"
"So tell me, which option works better, Athena?" Benedict leaned back in his chair and asked her, his tone perfectly flat.
I didn't let go. I stared Athena down. I hadn't even begun to settle accounts for what happened to Cindy, and here she was, delivering herself right to my doorstep.
Athena wrenched her hand free and rubbed her wrist, humiliation curdling into fury.
"You dare claim you don't have a single skeleton in your closet?"
Derek's shadow flickered through my mind. But no. There was no way.
"Feel free to dig, Ms. Simmons. After all, you do have a talent for fabricating things out of thin air."
"You—!" Athena choked on her own words. Then she pivoted, her whole demeanor softening as she turned to Benedict. "Ben, she's violent! Look what she did to me!"