Chapter 9

KILLIAN RUTLEDGE POV:

"My love, I've decided to switch our chip supplier," Isabel announced one morning, bursting into my office, her phone already recording for a live stream. "The old one is just so... basic. I found this amazing new company! They're super boutique, very edgy!"

I stared at her, my blood running cold. "Isabel, you can't just change suppliers! We have contracts, quality control, an entire supply chain built around our current partner. Who is this new company?"

"Oh, some friends of mine! They're just starting out, so they'll be super grateful to us!" she chirped, oblivious to the panic in my voice. "And their chips are, like, totally organic and artisanal. The other chips were probably full of chemicals. So unhealthy!"

I tried to explain, to reason, but she merely pouted and threatened to cry. "You don't trust me? After I saved your life, you still doubt my judgment?"

The familiar refrain. The unshakeable guilt. I sighed, running a hand over my face. My head throbbed. "Fine, Isabel. Just... be careful."

The "artisanal" chips were a disaster. The first batch, designed for our newest smartphone, caused devices to overheat and sporadically explode. Then came the news that the "boutique" factory Isabel' s friends owned was a dilapidated warehouse, operating with illegal migrant labor and no safety standards. A major accident occurred, resulting in several deaths and severe injuries.

The media storm hit like a tsunami. Headlines screamed: "Rutledge Tech's Deadly Secret," "Billionaire's Girlfriend's Greed Kills." My company's carefully cultivated image of innovation and ethical sourcing shattered into a million pieces.

Isabel, instead of laying low, made it worse. She gave an impromptu press conference, blaming "the victims for not following instructions" and "the media for being jealous of my success." Her words fueled the fire, igniting a national outcry against my company and, by extension, against me.

The stock market reacted swiftly. My company's shares plummeted, wiping billions off its valuation in a single day. My carefully built empire was crumbling, all because of Isabel' s reckless arrogance and my own weakness.

I found her in my office, humming, oblivious, scrolling through social media. My jaw clenched so tight I thought my teeth would crack.

"ISABEL!" My voice was a roar, shaking the very walls.

She jumped, startled, her phone clattering to the floor. "K-Killian? What' s wrong?" Her face was pale, her eyes wide with a fear I had never seen in them before.

"What' s wrong?" I snarled, striding towards her, my hands clenched into fists. "You want to know what' s wrong? You' ve destroyed everything! My company, my reputation, lives have been lost because of your idiotic, selfish decisions!"

She stumbled back, suddenly meek. "But... but I was just trying to help! You always said I was so smart! You said you loved me!" Tears welled in her eyes, her lips trembling, the familiar prelude to her manipulative performance. She reached for my arm. "Baby, don' t be mad. Remember what I did for you? Remember the mountain? I saved your life!"

But this time, the words were a cold, dead echo. The mountain. It no longer held power over me. All I saw was the wreckage she had caused, the lives ruined, the company bleeding. I yanked my arm away, disgusted.

"Get your hands off me," I growled, my voice low and dangerous. I turned my back to her, pacing the room, trying to regain some semblance of control. My legal team was already scrambling to mitigate the damage, but it was a monumental task.

Isabel watched me, a flicker of something desperate and ugly in her eyes. She tried again, throwing herself at me, burying her face in my back. "Killian, please! Don' t leave me! We can fix this! I love you! I promise I' ll be good!" She started to sob, a pitiful, desperate sound.

I felt nothing. No pity, no love, no trace of the overwhelming gratitude that had once chained me to her. Only a profound, aching weariness. I pushed her away, gently but firmly.

"There' s nothing to fix, Isabel. Not between us." Now that I saw her clearly, her beauty seemed superficial, her charm a thin veneer over a core of pure selfishness. The sight of her, her face contorted in a theatrical display of sorrow, filled me with a fresh wave of revulsion.

She stared at me, her mouth agape. "What? You... you can' t! I saved your life!"

I looked into her eyes, truly looked, and saw the twisted, manipulative soul beneath the pretty facade. My gratitude, my love, my guilt-all of it had evaporated, leaving behind only a bitter taste. The woman before me was not a savior; she was a leech, sucking the life out of everything she touched.

"That means nothing now," I said, my voice flat. "It means absolutely nothing." I turned away, walking towards the door. There was a company to save, a reputation to rebuild, a mess to clean up. A mess she had created, and a mess I had enabled.

Isabel stood frozen, her sobs dying in her throat, replaced by a dawning terror. For the first time, she saw the cold, hard glint of my true self, stripped of misplaced devotion. And for the first time, she was truly afraid.