Chapter 2

The next morning, Victoria's driver, a man named Marcus with an impassive face, was waiting for me.

"Mrs. Price arranged a check-up for you, sir. For any... stress from last night."

The clinic was opulent, private.

Victoria had indeed arranged it.

A doctor fussed over me, checking my blood pressure, asking about anxiety.

It was all a performance, Victoria's way of showing she "cared," while tightening the leash.

A small, elegantly wrapped box was delivered to me there.

From Victoria.

Inside, a new, ridiculously expensive watch.

The card read: "Take care of yourself, my love. V."

My love. The words were ash in my mouth.

I left the watch on the table.

Back at the penthouse we shared, the silence was deafening.

Victoria was out, likely with Julian.

My phone buzzed. A video message. From Julian.

I opened it, a knot tightening in my stomach.

It was Julian, smirking, holding up the patent document I'd fought for.

Victoria was beside him, beaming, as she presented it to him like a prize.

Then the video cut to them, later, in what looked like our bedroom, the patent on the nightstand.

They were laughing, intimate.

The camera panned, and I saw it.

My father's prototype microchip.

The one he'd designed, his revolutionary dream, non-functional but unique, the only thing of real value I had left from him.

Julian picked it up, tossed it in the air.

"Vic says this was your old man's big idea," he said to the camera, his voice mocking. "Cute little toy."

Victoria giggled beside him.

The video ended.

I felt a cold rage, then a profound sickness.

He was defiling my father's memory, and Victoria was letting him, encouraging him.

I walked through the penthouse, a gilded cage.

I started packing a small duffel bag.

My old clothes, a few books, the worn photo of my parents.

I left behind the designer suits, the expensive shoes, all the trappings Victoria had bought.

I found an old photo album. Victoria and I, in the early days. Smiling. Happy, I'd thought.

I deleted the digital copies from my cloud, then tossed the physical album into the trash.

A cleansing. A farewell.

Later that day, Julian Thorne sauntered into the penthouse as if he owned it.

Which, in a way, he now did, through Victoria.

He found me in the study, where I kept my father's things.

The prototype microchip was on my desk. I'd retrieved it from the bedroom after they'd left.

"Well, well, Ethan Hayes," Julian drawled, leaning against the doorframe. "Still moping?"

He strolled over, picked up the microchip.

"Victoria tells me you're quite attached to this little trinket."

His eyes gleamed with malice.

"It's important to me, Julian. It was my father's." My voice was tight.

"Was it now?"

Before I could react, he slammed it down on the marble desk.

Then he brought his heel down on it.

A sickening crunch.

It shattered into a dozen pieces.

"Oops," Julian said, not sounding sorry at all. "Clumsy me. Victoria and I were playing with it earlier. Guess it was more fragile than we thought."

I stared at the broken pieces, my father's dream, his legacy, destroyed.

My hands clenched. I wanted to hit him, to wipe that smirk off his face.

But I remembered my mother. Victoria's threat.

"You shouldn't have done that," I said, my voice dangerously quiet.

Julian just laughed. "What are you going to do about it, Hayes?"

Just then, Victoria swept in.

"Julian, darling! What's wrong?"

Julian immediately clutched his hand, his face a mask of pain.

"Ethan... he just attacked me! He was furious about the chip. I think he broke my finger!"

Victoria rushed to Julian's side, her face contorted with concern for him, and anger for me.

"Ethan! How could you? Apologize to Julian this instant!"

She didn't even look at the broken chip, my father's legacy in pieces on the floor.

She knew what that chip meant to me. She'd once pretended to understand.

"Victoria," I said, my voice even. "He's lying. He broke the chip. Deliberately. I have it on audio. He just admitted it."

I held up my phone. I'd started recording when he entered the study.

"Let me see your hand, Julian," Victoria cooed, ignoring me.

"He's trying to trick you, Vic," Julian whined.

I pressed play.

Julian's voice filled the room: "...Victoria and I were playing with it earlier. Guess it was more fragile than we thought."

Followed by his mocking laughter.

Victoria's head snapped towards me.

Julian looked momentarily panicked.