Chapter 4

In the days that followed, Mark and Chloe celebrated.

Photos of them splashed across tech blogs, toasting with champagne, announcing Chloe' s new, expanded role overseeing product and sales.

Mark, in his interviews, painted a picture of a streamlined, forward-thinking company, finally freed from "stagnant elements."

He was a master of spin, a king of empty charisma.

While they partied, I was in a cheap motel room, staring at the ceiling and replaying every line of code I had ever written for Nexus.

I saw its elegant architecture, its complex dependencies, the secret backdoors only I knew about. I saw the vulnerabilities I had meant to patch, the scaling issues that would soon become critical without my guidance.

They thought they had the keys to the kingdom. They had no idea the kingdom was built on a fault line.

My phone, which had been silent for days, began to light up.

First, it was headhunters. Then, CTOs from rival startups.

The story of my public firing had spread like wildfire through Silicon Valley. But the narrative was different among those who actually understood technology. They knew who the real talent was.

"Ava, we have an opening for a senior engineer. Six figures."

"Ms. Chen, we'd love to discuss a leadership position."

"Ava, whatever they were paying you, we'll double it."

The offers were validating, but they felt hollow. I didn't want to be just an engineer again. I didn't want to build something for someone else to take credit for.

Then, an email landed in my inbox that was different from the rest.

The sender was Daniel Lee, the CEO of InnovateTech, ConnectCorp's biggest and most feared competitor.

The subject line was simple: "A Partnership."

The email was short and to the point. He wrote that he had admired my "anonymous" work for years and considered me one of the few true innovators in the space. He didn't offer me a job. He offered me a seat at the table.

He wanted to build something new with me, as a partner.

We met for coffee the next day. Daniel was the opposite of Mark. He was quiet, thoughtful, and intensely intelligent. He didn't talk about branding or market share; he talked about technology, about elegant solutions to complex problems. He listened more than he spoke.

"I don' t just want your code, Ava," he said, his gaze direct and sincere. "I want your vision. At InnovateTech, we value substance over style."

For the first time since that horrible night, I felt a flicker of hope.

I said yes.

A week later, I was at a major tech conference with Daniel. It was my first public appearance since the incident. I felt nervous, exposed.

And of course, that's when I saw them.

Mark and Chloe were holding court, surrounded by a crowd of sycophantic journalists and investors.

When Mark spotted me, his face curled into a sneer. He strode over, Chloe trailing behind him like a designer shadow.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," Mark said loudly, ensuring everyone could hear. "Crawling to the competition already, Ava? I guess InnovateTech is where has-beens go to die."

Chloe chimed in, her voice laced with mock pity. "Don' t be so harsh, Mark. She has to make a living somehow, now that her sugar daddy is gone."

The crowd snickered. I felt a flash of the old humiliation, the sting of public shame.

But then I looked at Daniel, who stood calmly beside me. And I looked back at Mark and Chloe, at their empty smiles and desperate need for an audience.

I was different now. I wasn't the woman who cried when he slapped her.

I took a step forward, my voice clear and steady.

"It' s interesting you talk about dying, Mark," I said, a small, cold smile on my lips. "Because from where I' m standing, ConnectCorp is already on life support. You just haven' t realized it yet."