Chapter 2

The next morning, the sun streamed into the penthouse, mocking the wreckage of the kitchen. I hadn't slept. I just sat on the floor, surrounded by the mess, until the sky turned from black to gray.

Packing was a slow, painful process. Every object held a memory, a ghost of a life that was no longer mine.

Seven years is a long time. It' s a box of old concert tickets. A worn-out hoodie of mine that she used to sleep in. A stack of technical manuals with my notes scribbled in the margins, the very notes that had become the foundation of her empire.

I was supposed to be a ghost, but my presence was everywhere.

I found a framed photo tucked away in a drawer. It was from our first year together, a trip to a cabin upstate. We were huddled by a fire, my arm around her. She was looking at me, not the camera. In her eyes was a look I hadn't seen in years-not ambition, not calculation, just... affection.

"Forever, Alex," she had whispered that night, her head on my chest. "Just you and me against the world."

The words echoed in the silent apartment, a cruel joke.

I packed everything that was mine into cheap cardboard boxes. My clothes, my books, my laptop. I worked methodically, erasing myself from the space.

My phone rang. It was Mark, my only real friend at the company.

"Alex? Man, where are you? The whole office is a madhouse."

"I'm not coming in, Mark," I said, my voice rough.

"Yeah, I figured. I saw the news. I'm sorry. She's a piece of work."

"You have no idea."

"Listen," he said, his voice dropping. "There' s a problem. A big one. The integration code for the new acquisition is failing. The guys are panicking. Chloe is... not handling it well. She keeps asking where you are."

Of course she was. I was the only one who understood that code. I had written it from scratch.

"That's not my problem anymore," I said.

"I know, man, I know. But they're talking about a system-wide crash. It could tank the stock on their second day. Think about it, Alex. A little payback?"

He was right. But I wasn't ready to see her again. Not yet.

"Just... send me the error logs," I said. "I'll look at them from here."

"You're a good man, Alex," he said, and hung up.

I sat on the floor, my laptop open, and stared at the lines of corrupted code. It was a mess. A rookie mistake had cascaded through the system. I could fix it in an hour.

But as I started to type, I stopped.

Why was I still helping her?

Because Mark asked. Because the livelihoods of hundreds of other employees were on the line. People I knew, people who had been good to me. It wasn't their fault.

I finished the patch and emailed it to Mark with a single line: Run this. Don't tell her it came from me.

Then I went back to packing. I found the last item. A small, velvet box. Inside was a simple silver necklace, a custom-made piece with two interlocking rings. One for A, one for C. A third-anniversary gift. She had worn it every single day until about six months ago. Then it had just vanished.

I snapped the box shut and shoved it into my pocket.

By late afternoon, the apartment was bare. All my boxes were stacked by the door. I had scrubbed the soup from the wall, cleaned up the broken bowl. I would not give her the satisfaction of seeing my rage. I would just be gone.

As I was about to leave, my phone rang again. It was Mark.

"You're a miracle worker, Alex. System is stable. Stock is climbing again."

"Good," I said.

"Too good," he replied. "Chloe is on a warpath. She knows you fixed it. She's coming down to the server room. I think you should get out of the building."

"I'm already gone, Mark. Thanks for everything."

"No, wait, Alex!" His voice was urgent. "She's not alone. She has him with her."

A cold dread filled my stomach. I had planned to leave quietly. A dignified exit. But Chloe never made anything easy.

I walked out of the apartment and called the elevator. As the doors opened, I saw them standing there.

Chloe, Ethan, and two security guards.

Her eyes, cold and furious, locked onto mine.

"There you are," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "I thought you might try to run."