Goodbye Forever Ex-Husband (by Ammund) novel Chapter 172

Chapter 172

OLIVIA’S POV

I wasn’t done with that bitch yet, I thought to myself as I stood in front of the full–length mirror, adjusting the collar of my deep navy power suit. My hair was perfectly pinned back, perfectly taken care of by my own personal stylist, my stylist always came before I left for work, I had tried taking care of my own hair in the past and it did not work out well, there was always no time to finish, even when all I had to do was roll it up on a bun

My earrings were subtle but elegant, and my heels clicked authoritatively with every step. Clara stood by the door with her tablet in hand, already dressed sharply, ready to trail me like a shadow.

“You look stunning, ma’am,” she said with a proud nod.

“Thank you,” I replied, brushing an invisible crease off my sleeve. “Let’s go.”

As we stepped out of the mansion, the early morning sun bounced off the polished windshields of the cars waiting in my convoy. Armored Maybach stood at the center, flanked by four other sleek vehicles. My security team, dressed in sharp suits with comms in their ears, quickly moved to position.

Doors opened.

Engines hummed.

And the convoy rolled out onto the streets of Mexico like a silent storm.

We drove past neighborhoods and high–end districts, and heads turned as we passed. Blake Enterprise was a name that commanded respect–and fear.

And I was its face.

When we pulled into the driveway of Blake Tower, the massive 40–story glass building that served as our headquarters, I can still remember the first time I saw this building. I was surprised by the look alone, it was so beautiful that my jaw dropped and stayed that way for over 5 minutes.

My dad had to tap me and bring me back to reality, and when we went in, I was also shocked to see that the man I knew in the house wasn’t the same

man who was walking ahead of me in this building.

Everyone respected him so much, and I saw why he wasn’t as nice and loving to others as he was to me, even at his age younger people feared him.

And even up until now for how many years I still admire the beauty of this company, my father did an amazing job building this.

It was like time stopped. At the grand entrance, four men in tailored charcoal–gray suits stood in a line, waiting. As soon as the door opened and my heels touched the marble pavement, they bowed in unison.

“Good morning, Chairwoman Blake,” one of them greeted respectfully.

“Morning,” I said without slowing my pace. My presence did all the speaking for me.

The large double doors opened, and as I walked into the building, the bustling lobby fell into silence. Phones lowered, conversations stopped mid- sentence, and every eye turned toward me. I didn’t need to say a word. I didn’t even need to look their way. The only sound that echoed was the rhythmic click of my heels on the marble floor as I walked confidently toward the elevator, Clara close behind.

This was the kind of respect and fear–I had worked years to build.

When I arrived on the executive floor, the boardroom doors were already open. Inside sat the board members and high–level investors, their expensive watches glinting under the lights, eyes glued to the entrance.

As soon as I walked in, they all stood up.

“Good morning, Chairwoman,” they greeted almost in unison, nodding deeply.

I walked to the head of the long glass table, pulled out the chair, and sat down smoothly. Clara stood behndine, tablet in hand, scanning through the

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Chapter 172

documents silently.

“Let’s begin,” I said, my voice calm but firm.

One of the older investors, Mr. Esteban, spoke up first. “We’ve received the latest quarterly report. Profits are up 14% in Europe and 22% in Southeast Asia. However, there’s concern regarding our New York expansion. The project is slower than projected.”

I looked directly at him. “That’s because the New York team underestimated the competition and overestimated the market saturation window. We’re already restructuring leadership over there.”

Another man, Rodrigo, cleared his throat. “There’s also the issue with the textile partners. They’re demanding higher margins due to rising production

costs.”

“They can demand all they want,” I said coldly. “But Blake Enterprise isn’t a charity. We renegotiate on our terms. If they can’t meet the standards, we find new partners. Clara, add that to the follow–up list.”

The meeting wrapped up quickly after that, and one by one, they nodded and exited, murmuring things to themselves. Some were impressed. Others intimidated. That was exactly the way I liked it.

We both laughed as I took my seat. It was always like this with Steph. Light, comforting, honest. She was the only person who’d seen both versions of me -the broken girl who first arrived in Mexico, and the woman I had become.

Back in New York Julian was my only friend, before I found out that he was my brother, after him. I did not have any female friends aside from Steph.

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