Chapter 3
806words
He approached with his arm around Victoria's waist. His expression held that particular blend of condescension and awkwardness reserved for dealing with an inconvenient old possession that needs disposing of.
"Wendy," he began, his voice steady but distant, "I appreciate these past years. I know it wasn't easy."
He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Now that Victoria's back, she'll take care of me, and you can… move on. I'll have finance transfer you a generous sum—enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life. Consider it compensation for your service."
Victoria nestled against him like a fragile bird, flashing me a victor's smile thinly veiled with fake sympathy. "Miss Shaw," she cooed, "I can't thank you enough for keeping Nathan comfortable while I was away. Your dedication was… impressive. But you can stop troubling yourself now."
Her tone made it clear: I was the loyal dog who'd guarded the house, and now that the real owner had returned, I could take my bone and scram.
I stared at them both—at this man I'd given five years of my soul to, at the naked adoration in his eyes for another woman, at how casually he reduced my sacrifice to "service" that could be settled with a check.
Ice spread through my veins.
Oddly, I didn't cry. Instead, I felt my lips twitch upward, a hysterical laugh building in my throat—at my own stupidity, at the cosmic joke my life had become.
Five years—my prime years—had been nothing but an elaborate punchline.
My devotion and loyalty, compared to their "touching reunion," looked like a pathetic sideshow, casting me as the fool who never got the memo that she wasn't the lead character.
I stepped forward, my heels striking the marble with a sharp, lonely click that cut through the silence—a silence filled with curiosity, pity, contempt, and the collective breath-holding of people watching a train wreck.
I ignored Nathan's furrowed brow, ignored how he instinctively pulled Victoria closer as if I might attack his precious treasure, ignored the hundreds of eyes boring into me. With steady hands, I plucked a flute of champagne from a passing tray.
I raised my glass toward Nathan, my lips forming the ghost of a smile.
"Congratulations, Nathan," I said, my voice so steady it surprised even me. "You finally got exactly what you wanted."
I didn't drink. Instead, I raised my left hand.
On my finger gleamed the diamond ring he'd given me when his company first turned around—when he'd taken his first steps again. Under the chandeliers, it sparkled with cold irony.
I yanked it off.
The ring caught on my knuckle, scraping skin, sending a sharp bolt of pain through my finger.
Face blank, I pulled harder, my skin turning angry red until the ring finally slipped free—like shedding the last of my chains.
As Nathan's face drained of color, as the crowd gasped with delicious scandal, I simply let go.
Clink.
The ring hit the champagne with a crisp sound like breaking ice. It spun through the golden liquid, scattering fractured light before settling at the bottom—just like my past sinking into oblivion.
"My service is complete." I set down the glass containing my pathetic past, turned on my heel, and walked toward the exit with measured steps. Behind me, silence fell, then Nathan's voice erupted—a barely controlled growl trying to salvage his dignity: "Wendy! Get back here! Don't you dare make a scene!"
I didn't look back.
Each step felt like walking on broken glass—painful yet clarifying. With every stride, the fire in my chest burned hotter, consuming all the hurt, the rage, the wasted years—forging something new from the ashes.
The hotel doors parted, and the autumn night air hit my face—only then did I realize my cheeks were wet with tears.
But the fire inside me burned brighter than ever, burning away all doubt and hesitation.
My phone vibrated insistently in my purse—destiny calling, demanding an answer.
I took a deep breath of the crisp, free air, wiped my tears, and answered.
A sharp, confident female voice came through: "Miss Shaw, have you reached a decision? Stellar Tech would like to formally offer you the CTO position, with all terms as discussed. We believe your… intimate knowledge of Lawrence Group's technologies makes you uniquely qualified to lead our team to victory—and deliver them a killing blow."
I stared at Nathan's company logo glowing in the distance, its arrogant brilliance cutting through the night. A cold smile crept across my lips.
"Ms. Li," I replied, my voice steady with newfound resolve, "I accept. I'll be at tomorrow's press conference. And I'll be bringing Stellar a very special welcome gift."
