Beg On Your Knees: Erasing My CEO Husband Chapter 12

Beg On Your Knees: Erasing My CEO Husband Chapter 12: A Hollow Victory in the Office

“Get your filthy hands off me! Do you have any idea who I am?”

The hysterical scream pierced through the heavy glass of the Vance Global lobby, vibrating against the window of the coffee shop where I sat securely. I didn’t look up from my latte immediately. I let the pathetic sound hang in the air, a shrill note of desperation that successfully drew every eye on the sidewalk toward the revolving doors.

Seraphina Thorne stumbled violently onto the pavement, propelled by the firm, uncompromising grip of two massive security guards. A cardboard box, overflowing with high-end stationery and a stray silk scarf, slipped from her manicured grasp. It hit the concrete with a dull thud, spilling her corporate life into the gutter.

“You can’t do this!” she shrieked, her face contorted into an ugly mask of splotchy red rage. “Julian! Julian, tell them!”

The guards stood like stone pillars, their faces completely impassive. One of them casually kicked the box toward her with the toe of his boot.

“Mr. Vance’s orders, Ms. Thorne,” the taller guard stated coldly. “You are barred from the premises. Effective immediately.”

I lifted my cup, the steam warming my chin. I watched her through the tinted window. She looked incredibly small. For months, she had glided arrogantly through these halls like she owned the air we breathed, her chin tilted at an angle that screamed superiority. Now, she was just a pathetic woman in a rumpled designer suit, kneeling on a dirty sidewalk to gather her pens.

A businessman in a gray coat stepped around her, his expression one of pure disgust. Seraphina tried to grab his arm, her mouth moving in a frantic plea, but he shook her off forcefully as if she were a street beggar.

My phone vibrated on the marble tabletop. The caller ID flashed a name I had spent seven years answering with a compliant smile.

*Julian.*

I let it ring for three beats before sliding the bar to answer. I didn’t say a word.

“Did you see it?” Julian’s voice came through the speaker, breathless and sharp. He sounded like a frantic man who had just run a marathon and desperately expected a medal at the finish line.

“See what, Julian?” I asked. My voice was a flat, dead line.

“Don’t play games, Clara. I know where you are. I can see your car parked across the street.”

I leaned back gracefully in my chair, watching Seraphina shove a handful of files frantically back into her box. A gust of wind caught a loose sheet of paper—likely one of the fraudulent authorization forms I’d flagged—and sent it dancing merrily into the gutter.

“I’m having a coffee,” I said. “It’s very quiet over here.”

“I just fired her,” Julian blurted out. He sounded completely manic, the polished CEO persona entirely stripped away to reveal a sweating, panicked animal. “I had her escorted out by security. In

front of the entire accounting department. In front of the board. I made it a spectacle, Clara. Just like you wanted.

“I never told you I wanted a spectacle.”

“You showed me those files! You threatened the company!” He lowered his voice, the harsh rasp of his breathing filling my ear. “I’ve fixed it. The ‘problem’ is gone. I’m calling the legal team now to draft a non-disclosure agreement for her. She’s finished. She’ll never work in this city again.”

“Is that supposed to impress me?”

“It’s supposed to show you that I’ve made my choice!” Julian’s voice rose in pitch, cracking slightly. “I chose you. I chose the marriage. I’m purging the rot, Clara. I’m cleaning the slate so you can come home.”

I looked out the window again. Seraphina was standing now, clutching the ruined box tightly to her chest. She turned toward the coffee shop, her eyes searching the glass wildly. For a second, our gazes locked. She couldn’t see me through the heavy tint, but she knew. Her mouth twisted into a silent, venomous curse. She looked like she wanted to shatter the world with her bare hands.

“You aren’t purging rot, Julian,” I said, my voice dropping to an icy whisper. “You’re just trying to hide the evidence.”

“That’s not fair,” he snapped. “I sacrificed her for us.”

“You sacrificed her for your stock price. You realized she was stealing from you, and you realized I was the only one with the proof to sink you both. Firing her isn’t an act of love. It’s a risk.”

management strategy.”

“Clara, please.” The arrogance was entirely gone, replaced by a raw, jagged plea. “I’m standing in my office looking at your empty desk. It’s quiet. It’s too quiet. I made a mistake in Paris. A massive, stupid mistake. But I’ve handled it. I’ve punished her. Isn’t that what you wanted? To see her crawl?”

“I don’t care if she crawls or flies, Julian. I just don’t want to be in the same room as either of you.”

“I’ll do more,” he promised instantly. He was talking faster now, the desperate words tripping over each other. “I’ll give you the Malibu house. I’ll sign the transfer papers tonight. You don’t even have to use the SEC files. We can just… we can reset. I’ll take a leave of absence. We’ll go away. Anywhere you want.”

I watched Seraphina signal frantically for a taxi. Her movements were jerky, her haughty composure entirely shattered. No one helped her. The city moved around her as if she were a ghost, an unpleasant memory already rapidly fading.

“You still don’t get it,” I said.

“Get what? I’m giving you everything!”

“You think loyalty is something you can easily buy back after you’ve spent it all on someone else. You think if you throw enough money or enough victims at my feet, I’ll forget the exact way you looked at her in that hotel room.”

“I don’t love her!” Julian yelled violently. I heard the sharp sound of something heavy hitting his desk—a fist, or perhaps a glass. “I

never loved her! She was a distraction. A release. It meant nothing!”

“That’s the most disgusting thing you’ve said yet,” I replied with pure revulsion. “If she meant nothing, then you threw away seven years for a total void. You betrayed me for a ‘distraction.’ That makes you a fool, Julian. And I don’t want to be married to a fool.”

“Clara, wait—”

“I’m watching her leave,” I interrupted. I watched the yellow cab pull quickly away from the curb, carrying Seraphina and her box of ruined dreams into the unforgiving midday traffic. “She’s gone. And the funny thing is, Julian, looking at her doesn’t make me feel better. It doesn’t make me want to come back to that building.”

“Why not?”

“Because the man who hired her is still inside.”

The silence on the other end of the line was incredibly heavy. I could almost picture him standing by the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse office, his tie loosened, his forehead pressed desperately against the glass. He was looking down at the street, searching frantically for a sign of forgiveness that simply wasn’t there.

“I’m not coming back,” I said.

“You have to,” he whispered brokenly. “The board is asking questions. If you don’t show up to the gala next week, if we don’t present a united front, the rumors will start. The stock will dip. Everything we built—”

“Everything *you* built,” I corrected flawlessly. “I’m just the woman who decorated the lobby. Remember? That’s what your lawyer said.”

“He was wrong! I’ll fire him too! I’ll fire everyone!”

“Goodbye, Julian.”

“Clara! Don’t you dare hang up! Clara—”

I pulled the phone sharply away from my ear. His voice was a tiny, tinny screech coming from the speaker. I didn’t hesitate for a fraction of a second. I tapped the red icon, cutting him off mid-sentence.

The sudden silence in the coffee shop was beautiful.

I opened my contacts. I scrolled down to his name—the name that used to have a heart emoji next to it, the name that used to be my very first call every morning. I tapped ‘Edit’. I scrolled to the bottom.

*Delete Contact.*

A confirmation box popped up. *Are you sure?*

“Yes,” I whispered to the empty air.

I tapped the screen. Julian Vance vanished entirely from my phone.

I took a final sip of my latte. It was cold and bitter, but I finished it anyway. I stood up, smoothed out the wrinkles in my thrifted black skirt, and walked confidently out of the shop. Across the street,

the Vance Global building loomed like a giant, glass tomb.
Security was still hovering near the entrance, whispering to each other. People were pointing at the exact spot where Seraphina had fallen.

I didn’t look back. I headed toward the subway, my violin case heavy and solid against my side.

As I descended the stairs into the underground, my phone buzzed one last time. A text from an unknown number.

*You think you won? He’ll never let you go. And I’m not done with either of you.*

I stared at the menacing message. There was no name, but the venom was absolutely unmistakable. Seraphina wasn’t going away quietly. And Julian was a man who didn’t know how to lose.

I deleted the text and stepped onto the train. The doors slid shut with a sharp hiss, sealing me safely away from the world I had spent seven years trying to perfect. I was free, but as the train screeched into the dark tunnel, I realized that a man like Julian didn’t just accept a “no.” He was a predator. And if he couldn’t lure me back with gold, he would surely find a way to hunt me down.