THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.
Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Chapter 31

At that moment Malisa pushed the door open, and Cora followed her into the meeting room. It wasn’t a grand conference hall more like an intimate boardroom with a long oval table yet it could comfortably seat fifteen people if every chair was filled. Still, even in a modest space, Malisa’s presence settled at the head of the table like a crown. She carried herself with unspoken authority, and it was clear to anyone who walked in that she ran this room.

Polished wood gleamed under the gentle ceiling lights, and a subtle scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air.

The walls displayed framed posters of blockbuster films and top-rated dramas an echo of MK Entertainment’s proud history. Cora scanned the titles, noting how many of them starred Samuel Callum. The irony was not lost on her.

Malisa set Cora handbag down and clicked her pen twice, a nervous habit she hadn’t shaken since her intern days. "Ma, Cora," she said, "I left the contract files on my desk. They have Samuel’s latest demands. I need you to see them before we start."

"No problem," Cora replied. "Go fetch them. I’ll get a feel for the room."

Malisa shot her a grateful look, then walked briskly back through the doorway. The soft thud of her heels faded down the hall, leaving Cora alone with the quiet hum of the air-conditioning.

Seconds ticked by. The door handle clicked again. Cora turned, expecting Malisa with a stack of folders but instead, three people swept into the room. Leading them was Samuel Callum himself, every inch the superstar. His tailored jacket hugged his broad shoulders, and his confident stride suggested he already owned the place. Behind him came a tall, lean man in a sharp gray suit and a poised woman in a navy blazer, each carrying tablets tucked under their arms.

Samuel paused two steps inside, scanning the walls the same way Cora had, though his eyes lingered on his own posters with a faint, smug curve of the lips. He didn’t notice Cora at first. He slid a chair back, sat at the far end of the table directly opposite where Melissa’s files would have been and reclined as if he’d chosen a throne.

At that moment the man in gray opened his mouth, but Samuel lifted one hand, palm out. "I’ll speak for myself," he said, voice smooth but edged with steel. His gaze swept to Cora just as Malisa hurried back through the doorway, folders clutched to her chest.

Malisa froze for a heartbeat, taking in the sight of her star actor occupying the seat of honor. Her brows arched in silent surprise, but she forced a polite smile, shifting into professional mode.

Immediately Samuel’s eyes flicked over the room, then locked onto Cora’s. The air felt heavier, as though the lights themselves dimmed to watch. Nobody else dared sit. Even the poised woman in navy remained standing at his shoulder, tablet ready.

Then Samuel folded his arms. "Let us get straight to it," he said, tone low and steady. "I hear whispers that MK Entertainment is not pleased with my recent choices."

The representative in gray tried again, clearing his throat. "Mr. Callum—"

Again Samuel’s fingers twitched in a subtle warning. The man fell silent.

Then Samuel leaned forward, elbows on the table, every syllable measured. "It seems MK Entertainment doesn’t like what I do, the reputation I bring to them."

Again Samuel leaned even more forward, fingers drumming on the polished table. The room was so still that even the distant hum of the building’s air-conditioning felt loud. His gaze locked onto Cora steady, unblinking, almost predatory.

"I’m going to say what’s on my mind," he began, voice low but carrying to every corner of the room. "I’ll say it once and for all."

He straightened in his seat, shoulders squaring as though he were preparing to deliver the final scene of a blockbuster drama. Lights from the hallway brushed across his face, carving sharp lines into his features. No one else dared to interrupt.

His eyes narrowed. "It seems MK Entertainment does not quite know what they have."

A cold hush fell over the table. The two representatives behind Samuel looked at each other but stayed silent, waiting for their star to continue.

Samuel pointed directly at Cora, his finger slicing the air. "Out of everybody in MK Entertainment the director, the top brass, the decision makers they brought a nobody." He let the word hang, heavy and cutting. "Somebody I’ve never even heard of to negotiate my new contract?"

Cora’s pulse flicked like a drum in her ears, but her face remained calm. She met his glare with steady eyes, refusing to look away. Samuel took this as further provocation.

"What do they take me for?" His voice rose, reverberating off the walls. "Do they really believe I don’t understand my own worth? Do they think I can’t see an insult when it’s staring right at me?"

He gestured around the room, toward the posters lining the walls poster after poster showing his flawless grin, his name in bold letters. "Look at this place. My face keeps the lights on. My name sells out theaters. Yet they send a stranger this woman to sit across from me as if I’m some fool? Who do they think they have for them to bring a nobody, somebody that I do not even know, to have a discussion with me? This is an embarrassment. This is a slap to his face in which he is not going to take.

Samuel’s jaw clenched, a small vein pulsing at his temple. The room felt tighter with every heartbeat, as if the walls themselves leaned in to listen. He pushed back his chair just enough to create a soft scrape against the floor an unspoken warning that every eye should stay on him.

At that moment the tension deepened. Cora sat tall but silent, her calm gaze fixed on him. clutching the contract folders so hard the edges bent.

The two representatives behind Samuel shifted uneasily, their tablets forgotten at their sides.

Samuel’s lips curled in a half-smile. His voice dropped to a low, deliberate rumble. "Blackmail," he said, letting the word hang in the air. "That’s what some of you will call it."

He placed both palms flat on the table and leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

"But I call it clarity."

He tapped a single finger on the table. Each tap echoed like a ticking clock.

"I’m tired of games," he added. "That’s why I’m going straight to the point."