Watching him cradle Tania so carefully, a memory surfaced unbidden:

I'd pulled two consecutive all-nighters to land a major contract. When my blood sugar crashed and I collapsed right in front of Neal, he refused to even help me up—all because of "avoiding suspicion." He just stood there, watching my forehead slam into the corner of the desk.

To this day, a scar hides beneath my bangs.

And now? Now he was putting on this public display of affection because Tania pretended to faint.

My colleagues' sympathy overflowed—straight onto me as accusations:

"Ivy, Tania practically begged you! How can you be so aggressive?"

"Exactly! It's just a little credit. Is it really worth making such a fuss? You're just jealous of her!"

I swept a cold gaze across the crowd, watching them twist right and wrong without a second thought. Contempt filled my chest.

My sharp eyes caught what they'd all missed: Tania's eyelids fluttering ever so slightly, the faint curl at the corner of her lips. She was faking it.

"Don't let her fool you—she's not unconscious. She's acting!"

The words had barely left my mouth when Neal's hand shot up.

Crack.

The slap rang out, sharp and brutal.

Searing pain bloomed across my face. My cheek swelled almost instantly.

I stared at Neal in disbelief. His face was twisted with rage.

"Ivy, shut your mouth! Apologize to Tania right now—or I'll strip you of your VP position on the spot!"

Agony lanced through my chest. I looked at this man I'd loved for five years, and something inside me finally died.

I held his gaze, enunciating each word:

"Neal. Are you sure you want to take her side like this?"

My stare made him flush with humiliation and fury. He whirled toward the HR director and barked:

"Remove Ivy from her VP position immediately! Starting tomorrow, she cleans the company toilets. She's on janitorial duty!"

Laughter erupted around me—gleeful, mocking. Each laugh drove into my heart like a needle.

And yet, I found myself laughing too. Laughing until tears streamed down my face.

For Neal, I'd sacrificed my youth. I'd poured my parents' inheritance into building this company alongside him, brick by brick.

And this was my reward. Scrubbing toilets.

What a joke.

I turned to leave. Neal rushed after me, leaning close to my ear:

"Ivy, just apologize. I'm trying to protect you. It's only a month of cleaning—just for show, just to avoid suspicion. Once this blows over, I'll reinstate you."

Avoid suspicion.

There it was again.

Those two words had become his all-purpose excuse to exploit me, to hurt me.

"Neal, I don't need your protection. I quit."

Shock froze his features. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

I didn't look back. I turned and walked out of the gala, one deliberate step at a time.

Behind me: insults. Mockery.

In my hand, my phone buzzed with a message from Apex Industries HR:

"Ms. Pruitt, congratulations on making the right choice! Effective immediately, you will serve as President of our subsidiary, with full authority over all operations!"

I read the message. A smile spread across my face as I typed my reply:

"Looking forward to working together!"

Moments later, Paddy Finch called.

"Ms. Pruitt, I knew you'd come around! I've always said—staying at Gilbert Corp for the sake of some man was a dead end. With your abilities, I have no doubt you'll land the $500 million contract with Runhao Group. You'll have the company's full support."

My smile deepened.

The Runhao Group's $500 million contract.

Oh, I knew all about it.

That was the project Neal had been hell-bent on landing lately. He'd been bragging nonstop about how this deal would catapult Gilbert Corp to the next level.

What he didn't know was that Malcolm Lambert, the head of Runhao Group, was my mentor.

Malcolm had always admired my abilities. That fifty-million-dollar contract? He'd wanted to work with me from the start.

I'd originally planned to close this deal as a gift for Neal's proposal.

But now, everything had changed.

Without me, Neal and Tania didn't stand a chance at landing this contract.

Gilbert Corp was destined to crumble.

Back home, I stared at the handprint on my face. The tears I'd been holding back finally spilled over.

I picked up my phone. The company group chat had exploded—99+ unread messages. I tapped it open, and my blood ran cold.

The chat was flooded with videos. All of them showed Neal at the hospital, taking care of Tania.

He gently wiped her face. Carefully tucked the blanket around her.

And then, egged on by our coworkers, he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

The comments poured in:

"A perfect match! They were made for each other!"

"Mr. Gilbert treats her so well! I'm so jealous!"

I stared at the screen, my fingers trembling.

For the sake of so-called "professionalism," Neal had publicly snubbed me time and time again. He wouldn't even ride the same elevator as me.

That had made me the office laughingstock. Gold-digger. Desperate. Shameless.

And now? Here he was, openly intimate with Tania, without a shred of restraint.

So his "professionalism" had only ever applied to me.

The last thread of attachment I had to Neal disintegrated into dust.

I deleted every chat history with him. Blocked him on everything.

I stared at the breakup text on my screen. Hesitated for a moment.

Then hit send.

"Neal, we're done."