Chapter 2

I was tired of it, tired of being the silent, unappreciated foundation.

I put my phone on the counter and walked into the living room.

I turned on my console and loaded up a complex strategy game, something to absorb my mind.

A notification popped up on my phone screen, a direct message.

From Kev.

He sent a video, a short tour of the Aston Martin' s interior, leather seats, polished wood.

His voice, smug and taunting, narrated.

"This is what real success looks like, old man. Maybe you could afford the floor mats."

Something inside me snapped.

I picked up my phone, hit reply, and recorded an audio message.

My voice was cold, precise.

"Kev, you' re a parasite, clinging to success you didn' t earn. That car, her company, it was all built on foundations you can' t even comprehend. Enjoy the ride, because leeches like you eventually get flicked off. You' re a cheap suit in an expensive car, and everyone who matters knows it."

I sent it and blocked him.

Immediately, Izzy started calling.

One call after another. I watched her name flash on the screen.

I declined each call, then turned off my phone completely.

I leaned back on the sofa, the silence of the house pressing in.

Elysian Living. Her brand.

I remembered the late nights coding the initial e-commerce platform, the seed money I quietly injected when she was about to give up.

The calls I made, leveraging my old tech contacts to open doors for her, securing partnerships she thought she' d landed through sheer charisma.

The quiet crisis management when her early product lines had quality issues.

She never knew the half of it, or she chose to forget.

I was done.

Absolutely, definitively done.