Chapter 1239:

“Right now, I want to hear how you intend to make up for the Yaroslav Technology shares I was supposed to get,” he said indifferently.

Nothing in Babette’s expression gave her away.

With a sharp smack, her purse hit the table.

“I already told you it’s not my fault. I was tricked too,” Babette said, her temper flaring.

“Byrum, if you ended up losing the project, that’s on you, not me,” she snapped.

“If you want something, then rely on your own strength and stop trying to dump the blame on me.”

Showing weakness was not an option. She refused to let him see how afraid she was.

“Looking for proof, are you?” Byrum said, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t dig into what happened?”

A heavy thud rattled the table when he drove his fist into it.

“Try to imagine I’d walk in here, Miss Watson, with nothing I could use against you,” he said.

“Hear me clearly, Babette. All you have to do right now is keep me quiet. If you choose not to compensate me, then I’ll tell everyone exactly what you did and let the public decide who’s in the wrong.”

Rage tightened Babette’s jaw as she blurted out, “You!”

Deep down, she understood her actions were far from clean.

Back when she started those rumors, she hadn’t even tried to cover her tracks, because she was sure Yaroslav Technology would crash and burn—and everyone would praise her for steering them away from disaster.

Never once did she think things would snap back at her so quickly.

Now, with Byrum threatening to go public, the image she had carefully built as the calm, sharp-witted Watson heiress could crumble overnight.

And with Yaroslav Technology climbing as fast as it was, any scandal now would hit her hard. She refused to let that happen.

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But how long would he hold this over her head if she caved now?

There had to be a way to end it—permanently.

Hatred burned in Babette’s eyes as she stared at Byrum.

“I’m only after what should be mine,” Byrum said, a twisted grin on his face.

“I’m not stupid, Babette. This time, I’m the one with the upper hand. If I get too greedy, I know the Watson family will come after me.”

He paused, then leaned in, his words cold as ice.

“Count yourself lucky you were born a Watson.”

If it had been anyone else—someone like Millie before she crossed paths with Myron—he would have wrecked her life without a second thought.

Babette had protection because the Watson family stood behind her, and as long as Brandon still saw her as family, nobody would dare truly lay a hand on her.

Across the table, Babette fixed him with a glare, her hatred boiling over.

Never before had anyone dared back her into a corner like this, and the sting of it made her blood run cold.

All the power in this situation belonged to him. He had the proof, and she had nothing to fight with. He wasn’t even making ridiculous demands.

Still, the idea of bowing her head made her sick.

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