"No!"

Cheryl pressed down on Douglas's shoulder and whipped her head around to glare at me.

"Drew, how long are you going to keep acting like this?"

"Douglas has given everything for this company, and what about you?"

"What do you do besides throw tantrums?"

"Get in the car!"

"I don't have the patience to argue with you."

I looked at her coldly. "You want me in that car? Fine. Fire Douglas Gilbert right now. Tell him to pack his things."

The color drained from Cheryl's face.

Douglas lowered his head, his shoulders trembling slightly, as if he were fighting to hold back some deep well of hurt.

"Drew, that's enough!"

Cheryl shoved the car door open, her heels striking the pavement hard.

"Have you lost your mind? What has Douglas done wrong? What gives you the right to fire him?"

She stormed toward me, jabbing a finger in my face. "You're being completely unreasonable!"

"Everyone can see how capable Douglas is. Who are you to dismiss him with a single word?"

That was when Douglas finally "couldn't hold it in" anymore.

He stepped out of the car with reddened eyes, moved behind Cheryl, and said softly, "Ms. Delgado, please don't fight with Mr. Dickerson because of me..."

"If my being here makes Mr. Dickerson uncomfortable, I... I can resign on my own..."

A second later, actual tears slid down his cheeks, and Cheryl's heart shattered on the spot.

She spun around and grabbed his hand. "Douglas, you've done nothing wrong. The only one at fault here is a certain petty, small-minded person!"

"The company needs you. I will never let you suffer this kind of treatment!"

I watched the whole performance unfold and found it so absurd I almost laughed.

"Mr. Dickerson." Douglas's voice cracked. "I know that from my very first day at the company, you've never liked me."

"But I truly want us to get along. If you'd just give me a chance, I promise I'll work twice as hard. I won't let you down..."

His acting was getting better by the day.

I let out a cold laugh.

When I still refused to budge, Cheryl was shaking with fury. "Drew, Douglas has already bent over backward for you. You still won't let him be?"

"Do you want to push him to his breaking point before you're satisfied?"

"You've gone too far! In what way is Douglas not your equal?"

"He works harder than you. He's more considerate than you. He cares more about this company than you ever have!"

"And you, as one of the company's founders, what do you do besides throw your weight around and bully him?"

I had no interest in continuing this circus. I turned and walked away.

But Douglas suddenly rushed forward and grabbed my wrist.

"Mr. Dickerson, please don't go! The Zenith Group deal can't happen without you!"

I shook his hand off. He used the momentum to tumble to the ground, letting out a sharp cry of pain.

Cheryl rushed over immediately, pulling him up, her eyes blazing with fury and heartbreak.

"Drew! You put your hands on him again?"

Douglas curled up on the ground, clutching his arm, tears rolling down his face in fat, heavy drops.

"Don't blame Mr. Dickerson... I just lost my balance..."

I left without looking back.

Cheryl's furious shouting chased me down the street.

The next morning, the moment I stepped through the company doors, the entire office went silent.

Every pair of eyes found me, studying me with complicated expressions before quickly dropping back to their screens, pretending to be busy.

I walked straight to my office and started packing my things.

I had barely set a framed photo into a cardboard box when the door flew open.

Cheryl stormed in.

The second she saw what I was doing, something flickered in her eyes that I'd never seen before. Panic.

She slammed her hand down on the files I was gathering. "Drew, how far are you going to take this?"

I pulled my hand free and went back to emptying the drawer.

"I thought I made myself perfectly clear yesterday."

"You didn't mean any of that!" Cheryl stamped her foot, her voice climbing. "Twenty years we've been in each other's lives. You can't just throw that away!"

I stopped packing and looked up at her.

"Twenty years... so you do remember."

She bit her lip.

"Look, I know yesterday went too far. But you started it by going after Douglas. You can't blame me for getting angry."

"Enough!" I slammed the drawer shut. "Don't say that name in front of me."

The office plunged into silence.

Then a commotion erupted outside.

Someone screamed down the hall: "Oh my God, Assistant Gilbert is going to jump!"

The color drained from Cheryl's face.

She didn't even glance at me. She bolted out the door like an arrow loosed from a bowstring.

When it came to choosing between me and Douglas, she never hesitated.

I let out a bitter laugh, picked up my cardboard box, and headed for the elevator.

As I passed the lounge at the end of the corridor, I caught sight of Douglas through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He was sitting on the ledge, legs dangling over the edge, swinging them back and forth.

A crowd had already gathered on the street below. Fire truck sirens wailed, growing louder as they approached.

"This is all my fault! I'm the one who ruined the company!" Douglas's voice drifted in through the open window, thick with sobs. "If I hadn't made Mr. Dickerson angry, Zenith Group never would've pulled out of the deal..."

Cheryl stood by the window, nearly frantic.

"Douglas, get down from there! This isn't your fault!"

"So what if we lost the partnership? You can't do this to yourself!"

Then she spotted me. She lunged forward and grabbed my arm like I was a lifeline.

"Drew, call Rufus Swanson. Right now!"

"If he agrees to keep the deal going, Douglas won't do anything rash!"

I shook her hand off, cold.

"Call him yourself."

"Drew!" Her voice turned sharp as a whip crack. "Douglas already apologized. Are you really not going to stop until someone dies?"

She snatched a fruit knife off the table and pressed it against her own throat without a second of hesitation.

"If you don't make that call today, I'll die right here in front of you!"

The blade bit into her pale skin, leaving a thin red line.

The scene was so familiar it ached.

When I was fourteen, cornered by a gang of thugs in an alley, Cheryl had stood in front of me just like this, clutching a box cutter. Her eyes had been fierce and unwavering. "Anyone who touches him answers to me!"

Now those same eyes burned with the same fire.

But this time, she was protecting another man.

I stared at the bead of blood welling on her neck.

Slowly, I pulled out my phone and dialed Uncle Rufus.

"Uncle Rufus, it's me... Yeah, about the partnership..."

The moment I hung up, Douglas was helped down from the ledge.

He threw himself into Cheryl's arms, sobbing.

She let out a long breath of relief and turned to me with a smile.

"See? Isn't this so much better when everyone gets along?"

I said nothing. I picked up my box and walked away.

She froze, about to chase after me, when Douglas let out a pained groan behind her.

She stopped immediately.

"Douglas, what's wrong?"

"I think... I think my leg cramped up..."

The sunlight hit me like a blade when I stepped outside the building.

My phone buzzed. A message from Uncle Rufus.

"Kid, that phone call was an act for their benefit, wasn't it?"

"Don't worry. The partnership can pick back up anytime, but I only work with you."

I texted back a quick "thanks," then flagged down a cab.

As the car pulled away from the office building, I took one last look at the place where I'd spent five years of my life.

Then I blocked Cheryl's number. Every contact method, every platform. All of it.

"Where to, sir?" the driver asked.

I turned my gaze forward, toward the straight road ahead.

"The airport."