Chapter 2: Painful information
The sharp, proprietary sting was a brand, a permanent mark of her miscalculation. Bethany stood rigidly, her palms flat on the cool mahogany of Mr. Sterling’s desk, the expensive wool of her trousers doing nothing to cushion the throbbing heat. “This isn’t a courtroom, Bethany,” he said, his voice calm and horribly reasonable. “This is the one place you don’t get to argue your way out of.” His hand came down again, a crisp, sharp crack that echoed in the silent, book-lined office. She bit the inside of her cheek, tasting copper, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sound. Each impact was a brutal correction to the narrative of invincibility she’d so carefully constructed. He was methodical, covering every inch, ensuring the lesson would be remembered every time she sat down for the next week. “Confidentiality isn’t a suggestion you leverage for a strategic advantage.” Smack. “It is the foundation.” Smack. “Of everything we do here.” The final blow landed, heavier than the rest, a full stop. He stepped back, and the only sound was her ragged breathing. “We’re done.” She straightened up, her movements slow and precise, her face a mask of controlled fury and humiliation. “This stays in this room,” Sterling said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. “But if your ambition ever outweighs your ethics again, your next meeting will be with the bar association.” Bethany gave a single, sharp nod, walking toward the door with a gait she hoped looked more confident than she felt. The deep, radiating pain was a constant reminder. She had lost this round, but the game was far from over.