Chapter 2

My plan was to wait out the divorce cooling-off period and then move out with Leo. But Coleman and Casey made it impossible to stay.

The next morning, Coleman walked into the kitchen, expecting his coffee to be made, just like it was every day for the past ten years. He saw me packing a lunch for Leo and frowned.

"No coffee today?" he asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

I didn't even look at him.

Later, he approached me while I was on a work call. Casey was hovering behind him, looking pale and fragile.

"Blair," he said, interrupting my call. "Casey didn't sleep well last night. She said Leo's crying kept her up. I think it would be best if you and Leo moved into your old apartment for a while."

He was kicking us out of our own home. For her.

A part of me wanted to scream, to fight, to throw his hypocrisy in his face. But another, colder part of me saw the opportunity. This was my chance to get away.

"Fine," I said, my voice devoid of emotion.

He seemed surprised by my easy compliance. He stepped closer, trying to put his arm around me. "I know this is hard, but it's for the best. Casey is very sensitive."

I flinched away from his touch. "Don't. Just don't." I looked him in the eye. "I hope she sleeps well tonight."

His face darkened. "What's that supposed to mean? Your mind is so filthy, Blair."

"Is it?" I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound.

He leaned in, his voice a low growl. "I'm warning you. Don't go spreading rumors."

I just smiled. He had no idea what was coming.

I packed our things and moved us into my pre-marriage apartment that very day. It felt like a sanctuary, a clean slate.

But the peace didn't last. A few days later, Casey waltzed into my office at my marketing firm. She looked around with a proprietary air, as if she already owned the place.

"I need a job," she announced to my assistant, not even bothering to look at her.

"I'm sorry, do you have an appointment?" my assistant asked politely.

Casey scoffed. "I don't need one. I'm Casey Flores. Coleman Clark is my brother."

She strolled into my office and sat in my chair. "This is a nice setup. I'll take a senior marketing director position. I have a lot of followers on Instagram, you know. I can bring a lot of value."

Her arrogance was breathtaking. I had built this firm from the ground up, with my own blood, sweat, and tears.

"No," I said calmly.

Her eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"

"I said no. You're not qualified."

She shot up from the chair. "You'll regret this! Coleman will hear about this!"

"Get out," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "Now."

She stared at me, her face contorted with rage, then stormed out. I called security.

"Escort Ms. Flores out of the building. And make sure she never sets foot in here again."

Less than an hour later, Coleman burst into my office. He'd abandoned a multi-million dollar merger meeting to rush over here. For her.

"What is wrong with you?" he yelled. "Casey is family! Why can't you be more tolerant?"

"This is my company, Coleman," I said, my voice steady despite the anger churning inside me. "I decide who works here. And she is not welcome."

He stared at me, his jaw tight. He grabbed Casey's arm. "Fine. Let's go, Casey. We don't need her charity."

They left, and a heavy silence descended on the office.

The next morning, the crisis hit.

My top three executives resigned. Then, a wave of junior employees followed. They had all been poached, offered double their salaries to work for a new, rival firm.

A firm that had been secretly funded by Coleman.

I tried to hire new people, but no one would take the job. Word had spread that my company was toxic, that I was a nightmare to work for. Lies, all of it, spread by Coleman and Casey.

My clients started pulling out, one by one. The company I had poured my life into was bleeding out.

I was forced to sell. The only offer on the table was a lowball one, barely enough to cover my debts. I had no choice but to accept.

On the day I went to sign the final papers, I walked into my old office for the last time.

And there she was. Casey. Sitting in my chair, her feet propped up on my desk.

"Welcome to my office," she said with a smug grin. "Or should I say, my new office."

She gestured around the room. "Coleman bought the company for me. A little present. Isn't he the sweetest?"

My heart twisted in my chest. This place was my baby, my creation. And they had stolen it, gutted it, and left me with the scraps.

Coleman walked in then, a look of fake sympathy on his face. "Blair, I'm so sorry it came to this. But don't worry, I'll take care of you."

I just laughed. The sound was brittle, empty. "You're too kind."

I walked to the desk and signed the transfer documents. It was over.

As I turned to leave, Casey picked up one of my awards from the shelf, a trophy for 'Marketing Innovator of the Year'.

"What's this piece of junk?" she sneered, and then she dropped it. It shattered on the floor.

She then went down the line, smashing every plaque, every trophy, every symbol of my success.

One award remained. The very first one I had ever won. It was a small, simple glass plaque, but it meant the world to me. It represented the moment I knew I could make it on my own.

I lunged for it, trying to save it.

Casey yelped, stumbling backward. "Ow! You pushed me!" She held up her hand, where a tiny, almost invisible scratch was welling with a single drop of blood.

Coleman rushed to her side instantly. "Casey! Are you okay? Let me see!" He fussed over her insignificant scratch, ignoring the gaping wound in my soul.

He turned to me, his eyes cold. "Give me the award, Blair. You hurt her."

He held out his hand, expecting me to obey. He offered a replacement, a pathetic attempt at a solution.

"I'll have a new one made for you," he said, his voice sickeningly reasonable. "A better one. I'll even have Leo help me design it."

In that moment, I saw him for what he truly was. Shallow. Uncaring. He thought a new, shiny object could replace the years of hard work, the passion, the very essence of who I was.

I looked at the award in my hand, the last piece of my old life.

Then I looked at him.

And I smashed it on the ground myself.