Danielle glanced at the steaming bowl of chicken broth sitting on the table in front of her. Wisps of heat curled from the surface, but she barely spared it a second look.
Her voice was cool, detached. "My resignation's already been processed."
Alexander pulled out a chair and sat down across from her. "I can have it reversed."
She blinked, momentarily thrown. "What?"
Alexander was the CEO—he never bothered himself with HR business, never paid attention to who came or went. She'd been gone for days now, and suddenly he claimed her resignation didn't count?
A frown pinched her brow. She was rapidly growing tired of the way he lorded over everyone, herself included.
"My resignation is legally effective," she said, her tone clipped.
Alexander's eyes, dark as midnight, fixed on her. A faint, mocking smile tugged at his lips. "You think The Davidson Group can't handle someone like you? And you really believe you and Niki will have it so easy out there, on your own?"
Danielle drew a slow breath, unwilling to waste energy arguing about pointless things.
When she didn't answer, Alexander continued, voice level as ever. "Grandma asked me to bring you this soup. She says you can't just skip dinner every night."
"Drink it while it's hot."
Danielle didn't hesitate. "No, thank you."
His grandmother had always tried to push the two of them together, and Alexander—dutiful grandson that he was—always obliged her. There was a time in her last life when Danielle had basked in the attention, but now the act of playing happy couple with him just made her feel tired and sick.
He didn't react to her refusal, his expression flat, his tone even calmer. "So you're determined to upset Grandma?"
Danielle shot him a look. "She's your grandmother. If it's so important to her, drink it yourself or pour it out and tell her I finished it. I'll play along."
"Danielle." Alexander's gaze was unflinching, his presence quietly menacing. "I don't have time for your childish games."
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