The next morning, heading to work, I was nearly knocked off my feet by a blond young man in the coffee shop downstairs.

My Hermès Birkin hit the ground hard, scraping the leather.

The latte in his hand went flying, splashing across the hem of my cashmere coat.

The two security guards at the door immediately rushed over.

They started yelling at the young man for not watching where he was going.

The youth, startled, scrambled to pick up my bag. He handed it to me, then fumbled for a tissue to wipe the stain on my coat.

When he saw it wouldn't come out, he dropped to his knees on the cold floor, begging for my forgiveness.

In the dead of winter, he wore only a thin jacket and sunglasses, but even they couldn't hide the dark bruises under his eyes.

I ignored my stained coat, frowning as I gently rubbed the scuff on my bag.

And as fate would have it, Liam, who always arrived at work at the same time, saw the entire scene.

Our company headquarters stood directly across the street from each other.

He stood there, watching quietly, his face cold and grave.

For the first time, I saw disgust in his eyes.

He probably saw my aloof posture as another example of me throwing my weight around.

I ignored his silent judgment. Taking a step back, I held up a hand to stop the approaching security guards and grabbed the young man's arm, pulling him to his feet.

"I don't know what you're going through, but a man should never kneel so easily. You can lose anything, but never lose your dignity. It's the only thing you truly own."

The young man kept apologizing and thanking me as he cleaned up the mess.

Finally, he scurried away.

As he rounded the corner, he glanced back over his shoulder, a cryptic smile on his lips.

Back in my office, I sat at my desk and carefully examined the damaged bag.

The scratch wasn't large; you wouldn't see it if you weren't looking for it.

But once a thing is flawed, it can never be perfect again.

Because it was so precious, even the smallest imperfection was nearly impossible to repair.

Much like my relationship with Liam.

The look in his eyes that morning was still a thorn in my side.

Liam and I always had lunch together in my office, delivered by our private chef.

Today, I waited until one. When he didn't show, I figured he wasn't coming.

The moment I opened my lunch, he walked in.

Trailing behind him was Sophia.

Her eyes were red and swollen. She kept her head bowed in a picture of meek submission.

I put down my chopsticks and just watched them.

Liam sat down beside me and sighed.

"Because of last night, Sophia is being targeted and ostracized by everyone at the company."

I picked up my spoon and began to ladle soup for myself, not even bothering to look up.

"What's the problem? She's the great CEO's assistant. Can't she handle a little workplace drama?"

"I was hoping you would tell your people to back off. Stop making things difficult for her."

It was standard practice in our world to have allies planted in each other's companies.

Liam was implying my people were targeting Sophia to defend my honor.

Nearly every employee from both our companies had been at the gala.

It was only natural that Sophia would face criticism for her behavior.

I stirred my soup and took a sip.

"First, I have not instructed anyone to target your assistant. You know that's not my style."

"Second, if she's suffering, she has only herself to blame for her complete lack of boundaries."

"Liam, you still don't understand people. The exceptions you make for her, the way you indulge her—sooner or later, that will make enemies for her. The person hurting her is you, not me."

Sophia, silent until now, suddenly stepped forward. "It has nothing to do with Liam," she said anxiously.

"Chloe, what happened yesterday was my fault. It was the first time I'd ever received such a valuable gift. I got carried away and offended you. I apologize."

I was taken aback for a second, then I laughed. "Liam, your assistant is quite a piece of work. Can't grasp plain English, but fiercely protective of you, isn't she?"

I didn't accept her insincere apology, nor did I promise to intervene.

Sophia's tearful grievances finally wore Liam down.

For the first time ever, he lost his temper with me, smashing the soup bowl at my feet.

He even demanded that I apologize to Sophia.

I had done nothing wrong. Why should I apologize?

That day, we parted on the worst of terms.

That same afternoon, Liam took Sophia on a business trip to San Francisco, escaping the mess he'd made.

That night, drinking with Olivia, she sighed that I lived my life with too much control.

That, she said, was what allowed a beautiful fool like Sophia to catch Liam's eye.

My mother died when I was young, and my father never remarried. He raised me to be his successor, to shoulder the weight of our entire family.

Feminine weakness was a luxury I couldn't afford; it would only slow me down.

I had held fast to my principles for thirty years.

Why couldn't he?

In the end, the answer was simple. He didn't love me anymore.

And I have no interest in things that no longer belong to me.