You don’t need to turn it into some huge thing.”
I looked at him for a long moment.
Then I took out my phone.
Ethan’s face changed immediately.
“What are you doing?”
I opened the family group chat and placed the phone screen-down beside me without showing it to Jamie.
“I’m remembering the exact scale you assigned to it yesterday.”
He stared at the phone.
“You told me not to attend a family gathering because your wife said I would make the party stink.
Mom, Dad, and Aunt Linda responded with hearts.
Then you sent another message explaining that Sabrina was sensitive to ‘certain people.’ That wasn’t an accident, Ethan.
It was a decision.”
Sabrina looked toward the glass wall.
Employees moved quietly beyond it, unaware of the conversation.
Her voice lowered.
“Could we keep family matters private?”
“They were private until you brought them into my workplace by becoming my client.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No,” I said.
“Yesterday wasn’t.”
Her expression hardened.
There it was—the version of Sabrina I recognized from the group chat.
Not the polished entrepreneur from her presentation deck.
The woman who believed cruelty counted as confidence as long as nobody challenged her.
She pushed the paper back toward me.
“So this is punishment.”
“No.
If it were punishment, I would behave the way you did.
I would use access as a weapon.”
I tapped the folder.
“I’m doing the opposite.
Your contract remains valid.
Your work remains protected.
I am removing the personal relationship from the professional one.”
Jamie spoke for the first time.
“Daniel is prepared to join us if you’d like to continue onboarding today.”
Sabrina looked at her.
“No.”
Ethan turned to her.
“Sabrina—”
“No.
I hired this firm because I was promised top-level attention.”
“You are receiving top-level attention,” I said.
“I want you on the account.”
It was the first time in my life I had heard Sabrina say she wanted me anywhere.
I leaned back.
“I’m declining.”
Her face flushed.
“You can’t make this personal.”
“I’m not.
That’s why I’m declining.”
Ethan leaned forward, his elbows on the table.
“Clara, please.
Just do the account.
We can fix the Sunday thing.”
I looked at him.
