Olivia's POV
I stood in front of Maxwell Wellington's imposing desk, my mouth agape. The words he'd just spoken seemed to echo in the spacious office, bouncing off the floor-to-ceiling windows. Surely I hadn't heard him correctly.
"Excuse me, sir. I don't think I heard you correctly," I managed.
Maxwell leaned back in his leather chair, his piercing green eyes studying me with that same intensity he'd used in his Dr. Heart's office. His expression was downright cold.
"I said I've gone through your portfolio, and I've realized the position of junior associate is too much for you," he repeated slowly, as if speaking to a child. "You're not good enough."
The words hit me like a punch to the face. I felt my knees threaten to buckle, but I locked them in place, refusing to show weakness. Not good enough? Three top partners had analyzed my resume and confirmed I was exceptional. What was this asshole talking about?
