“You manipulated me.”
You smile slightly.
“No. I paid you.”
That one lands.
Derek looks away, hiding a grin. Simon shifts uncomfortably. Olivia folds her arms and watches Martin with open disgust.
Martin grabs his glass and drinks.
“You can’t just come into my house and threaten my business.”
“I didn’t come here to threaten anything,” you say. “I came because my husband asked me to. I came because, once again, I put his comfort above my dignity.”
Felipe flinches.
You continue.
“Then you opened your mouth.”
Martin’s jaw tightens.
“What do you want? An apology?”
“No.”
That surprises him.
You step toward the table where you left your bag. You unzip it and pull out a thin folder. The folder is white, clean, and ordinary. It does not look like revenge.
That is what makes it terrifying.
“I want you to understand the consequences of confusing kindness with weakness.”
Martin stares at the folder.
“What is that?”
“Notice of contract termination.”
His wife Clara covers her mouth.
Martin laughs, but now it is pure panic.
“You can’t do that.”
“I can.”
“No, you can’t. There are terms.”
“Yes,” you say. “And your agency violated them.”
His eyes narrow.
“What are you talking about?”
You open the folder.
“Three months ago, Breeze Media used Sweet Corner’s unreleased holiday packaging concept in a pitch to another bakery chain in Valencia. Your junior designer accidentally included our internal mockup ID in the file name.”
Martin’s face goes blank.
You turn one page.
“Six weeks ago, your team billed SweetPro for campaign work that had already been completed by our in-house designer. We paid anyway because my finance manager wanted proof of a pattern.”
Martin looks around, suddenly aware that everyone is listening.
“And last month,” you say, “you personally told a vendor at a trade event that Sweet Corner’s success came from ‘pretty packaging hiding mediocre products.’”
His mouth opens.
You continue before he can lie.
“That vendor is my cousin.”
The silence after that is almost beautiful.
Not because you enjoy his fear.
