Eric didn't even look at me—just checked on Shelly like she was the victim. Then he turned on me like I'd committed some crime.

I hadn't even touched her.

He snapped, "Madison Mercer, if you can't handle your job, then leave! You think this whole company revolves around you? You're too much for a place like this—I can't keep someone like you around!"

Tears slid down my cheeks.

My chest felt like it was full of glass.

I chased him for three years. Poured family money into his startup. Got my dad to quietly mentor him. Helped him rise, step by step.

But when it came time, he said letting me in as Deputy CEO would look bad—like favoritism. So he made me start at the bottom, hauling inventory.

I rubbed the callus still on my finger. I wasn't doing grunt work anymore, but the mark stuck—on my skin and my heart.

One sentence, and Eric erased everything I'd done for Corevista. For him.

And just like that, I saw him for what he really was.

Selfish. Small. Pathetic.

He walked out holding Shelly like some tragic hero, while everyone outside stared—some pitying, most enjoying the show.

I wiped my tears and stood, using the desk for balance. No one moved to help me.

Then Paige—the executive assistant—stepped in. Quietly closed the door, handed me a tissue, helped me keep what little pride I had left.

Blood hit the floor. I touched my forehead and realized I was bleeding. I gritted through the pain and headed to the restroom.

While washing up, I caught Shelly's smug reflection in the mirror.

"No matter how good you are at work, it doesn't matter if you can't keep your man," she said. "Look how fast I took everything. If you're smart, don't try to compete."

She jabbed my cut with a perfectly manicured finger.

"Eric and I go way back. You were just some desperate girl chasing him. You never stood a chance."

Blood slid down my temple as she laughed and walked off like I was invisible.

I ended the recording on my phone. Then, while I still held the title of Strategic Planning Director, I pulled the office surveillance footage.

Next step? Booked a flight to Votara. Leaving tomorrow.

Shelly was right—trash belongs in the trash. And Eric? He was garbage I'd finally tossed. They were made for each other.

Back at my desk, I printed my resignation and handed it to a coworker to deliver.

Then I packed up and walked out of Corevista Corp for good.

By the time I got home, it was already evening. Eric had sent a message.

[Madison, I'm not coming home tonight. Shelly's not feeling well. Don't be late for tomorrow morning's meeting. Might be good for your attitude.]

Classic Eric. Always counting on me being too attached to walk away. Silent treatment as control.

But I finally got it—no one needs anyone to survive.

What happened? Stays in the past. From now on, Eric and I are done.

I blocked him everywhere, deleted every trace, and closed the door on what used to be our home.

The next morning, I caught the first flight to Votara.

Time to start over.