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82

SOME HOURS LATER

With a graceful stride, Arabella entered the conference room, commanding attention in her ensemble — an elegant green dress complemented by sleek heels. Her hair, neatly pinned back, accentuated her sharp features, and as she walked, there was an air of confidence about her.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," she greeted, her voice carrying a polite tone subtly infused with determination.

"Miss Collins," Louis Tompson, the lawyer, rose from his seat upon her arrival, extending his hand in a gesture of sympathy. "My condolences for the divorce?"

Arabella's response was swift and resolute. "Not at all," she declared, dismissing any notion of condolence.

Seating herself across from Mason, with Tompson positioned at the head of the table, Arabella's eyes met Mason's with a mixture of disdain and relief.

Gone was the power he once held over her — she was free now, and she made sure he knew it.

"Now, the purpose of this meeting is to align the restructuring of the companies," th
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