Jilted Ex? I'm The Lost Heiress

Lana checked her watch for the fifth time. The leather strap felt tight against her wrist, trapping a layer of sweat against her skin.

7:45 PM. They were forty-five minutes late.

The candle in the center of the table flickered, casting a dancing shadow against the untouched wine glass in front of her. She stared at the dark red liquid. It mirrored the exhaustion settling deep in her bones. Her reflection in the glass looked distorted, tired.

"Would you like to order appetizers while you wait, Miss?" the waiter asked. His voice was soft, pitying.

Lana looked up and forced the corners of her mouth to lift. It felt like pulling against a heavy weight. "No, thank you. I'll wait a little longer."

The waiter nodded and retreated into the shadows of the private booth.

The heavy oak door swung open with a violence that made the silverware rattle.

Wayne walked in first. He didn't look at Lana. He was adjusting his cufflinks, his movements jerky and agitated. Jessica followed him, slipping through the door like a shadow.

The air in the small room shifted. It wasn't just the intrusion; it was the smell. A cloying mixture of Wayne's expensive cologne and Jessica's floral perfume. They smelled like the same bedsheets.

Lana stood up, her legs feeling unsteady. She reached out to hug Wayne, a reflex born of three years of habit.

He turned his shoulder. Her hands brushed against the fabric of his suit jacket and fell into empty space.

Jessica stepped forward. She looped her arm through Wayne's, her fingers digging into his bicep. She looked at Lana, her eyes wide and bright, but there was no warmth in them.

"Sorry we're late, Lana," she said. "Traffic was a nightmare."

She squeezed Wayne's arm. He didn't pull away.

"Sit down," Wayne said. His voice was flat.

They sat. The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. It pressed against Lana's eardrums.

Lana reached under the table and pulled out the small, velvet-wrapped box she had brought. "I wanted to celebrate," she said, her voice sounding too loud in the quiet room. "The Series B funding came through. I thought-"

"Lana, stop," Wayne interrupted. He didn't look at the box. He was staring at the tablecloth. "We need to talk about the equity structure."

The words hung in the air.

Suddenly, Jessica made a sound. A sharp, wet gag. She slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes watering.

Wayne's head snapped toward her. The indifference vanished, replaced by a frantic, raw panic. He grabbed the glass of water in front of him.

"Jess? Are you okay?" He handed her the glass, his hand hovering protectively over her back. He wasn't looking at Lana. He was looking at her like she was made of glass.

Lana watched Jessica take a sip. Her other hand moved. It was a subtle movement, instinctive. She placed her palm flat against her lower stomach.

Lana's stomach dropped. It felt like the floor had opened up beneath her chair.

She looked at Wayne, then at Jessica's hand on her stomach. The pieces clicked together with a sickening snap. The late nights. The whispered phone calls. The smell of her perfume on his shirts that he claimed was from "client hugs."

Lana set her wine glass down. The stem clicked against the table.

"How many months?" Lana asked. Her voice was ice.

Wayne froze. His face drained of color.

Jessica straightened her spine. She lowered the water glass and looked Lana dead in the eye. A small, triumphant smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"Twelve weeks," she said.

Wayne finally looked at Lana. His jaw was set tight. "Since you know, there's no point in dragging this out. We're breaking up, Lana. Jessica... she fits the image of Meridian better. She's better suited to be the wife of a CEO."

A high-pitched ringing started in Lana's ears. Her heart slammed against her ribs, a frantic, painful rhythm. Thump. Thump. Thump.

She took a deep breath, forcing oxygen into her lungs.

"You're too intense," Wayne continued, gaining confidence now that the words were out. "And frankly... your background doesn't help with the IPO. Investors want pedigree."

Jessica reached across the table. Her fingers were cold as she covered Lana's hand. "Lana, honey, you're still my best friend, right? For the baby's sake. We don't want any drama."

The touch burned. Lana yanked her hand back as if Jessica were a hot stove. She grabbed her napkin and scrubbed the skin where Jessica had touched her.

Lana stood up. Her chair scraped loudly against the floor. She looked down at them. Wayne, the man she had built a company for. Jessica, the woman she had trusted.

"Fine," Lana said. "I agree to the breakup."

Wayne let out a breath, his shoulders sagging. He thought he had won.

"Now," Lana said, "let's talk about liquidation. I'm pulling my capital."

Wayne let out a short, barking laugh. "Your capital? You have sweat equity, Lana. Sign the waiver, and I'll give you a fifty-thousand-dollar severance package. Don't be greedy."

Lana reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. She tapped the screen, activating the voice recorder.

"I'm not talking about the shares," Lana said. "I'm talking about the patents registered in my name. And the core licensing agreement with Delta Lab."

Wayne blinked. "What does Delta Lab have to do with you?"

Lana didn't answer. She picked up her purse.

"My lawyer will contact you tomorrow," Lana said. "This meal? We're splitting the bill."

She signaled the waiter. She paid for her water.

Lana turned and walked out. She didn't look back. She held it together until the heavy oak doors swung shut behind her. Then, a single tear tracked a hot line down her cheek.

"Lana Day!" Wayne shouted from inside the booth. "You walk out that door, and you can forget every promise I ever made you! You'll have nothing!"

His voice was muffled by the wood.

Lana stepped out onto the sidewalk. The cool night air hit her face. Her phone buzzed in her hand.

She looked down. A text message from "Greg - Delta Lab VP."

Standing by for instructions.

Lana threw the last sweater into the suitcase. Her hands were shaking, not from sadness, but from a rage that made her blood feel like gasoline.

The doorbell rang. Not a polite chime, but a frantic, continuous assault.

She unlocked the door. Patricia Sterling pushed past her before the latch even clicked.

Patricia was a small woman, but she took up space like a tornado. Wayne and Jessica followed her in, crowding the small entryway of the apartment Wayne paid for.

"You ungrateful little bitch," Patricia spat. "I heard you threatened to sue Wayne?"

Lana stood her ground. "This is trespassing. Get out."

Patricia laughed. It was a harsh, grating sound. "Trespassing? My son pays the rent on this dump! You're the parasite here!"

Wayne stepped forward, thrusting a document toward Lana's chest. "Sign the waiver, Lana. Or I sue you for theft of trade secrets. You think you can steal Meridian's IP?"

Lana looked at the paper. It was a joke. A terrifying, legally binding joke.

"Auntie Pat," Jessica whined from the back. "Don't waste your breath. Orphans like her always just want a payout."

Patricia's eyes narrowed. She saw the bowl of mushroom soup Lana had left on the entry table-her dinner that she hadn't touched.

"No class," Patricia muttered. "Just a gutter rat."

She grabbed the bowl.

"Mom, wait-" Wayne started, but it was too late.

Patricia swung her arm. The creamy, brownish liquid flew through the air.

Lana twisted away, but the soup splashed against her shoulder and neck. It was scalding hot, and a sharp sting bloomed across her skin. It seeped into the wool of her sweater, sticky and gross. The smell of mushrooms filled the air.

Something inside Lana snapped. The wire holding her composure together frayed and broke.

She didn't scream. She didn't cry.

She grabbed the pitcher of ice water sitting next to the empty bowl.

Patricia was smirking, wiping a drop of soup from her finger.

Lana threw the water.

It hit Patricia square in the face. The ice cubes clattered against her forehead. Her mascara ran instantly, turning her face into a black-streaked mask of horror.

Patricia shrieked. A high, piercing sound that made Lana's teeth ache.

"You little-" Wayne roared. He lunged at Lana, his hand raised.

Lana didn't think. Her body moved on instinct. She grabbed the heavy stainless steel ladle from the table and brought it down hard on the back of his hand.

Thud. The sound of solid metal hitting bone echoed in the small room.

"Ah!" Wayne recoiled, clutching his hand. He looked at Lana with wide, shocked eyes. He had never seen her fight back.

Lana stepped forward and slapped him.

Her palm connected with his cheek with a sound like a pistol shot. Her hand stung, vibrating with the impact.

"You're crazy!" Jessica screamed. She tried to step around Wayne.

Lana whipped her head toward Jessica. Her eyes felt wide, unblinking. "You want some too? Careful, Jessica. Don't upset the baby."

Jessica stumbled back, tripping over the edge of the rug. She landed on the sofa, clutching her stomach.

Lana kicked her suitcase toward the door. "Get out! Now!"

"You'll pay for this!" Patricia screeched, clutching her wet face. "I'll ruin you!"

"Get out!" Lana screamed.

A neighbor's door opened down the hall.

Patricia saw the audience. She grabbed Wayne's arm. "Let's go. She's insane."

They scrambled out the door, tripping over each other.

"You'll be begging on the streets by next week, Lana!" Wayne yelled over his shoulder.

Lana slammed the door. The frame rattled.

She leaned back against the wood, sliding down until she hit the floor. Her chest heaved. Her skin burned red where the soup had hit her. Her hand throbbed from the slap.

Her phone buzzed on the floor next to her.

A text from Whitney, Wayne's sister.

Heard you got kicked to the curb. About time.

Lana stared at the screen. Her breathing slowed. The shaking stopped.

She wasn't sad anymore. She was ready.

The first rays of morning sunlight cut through the blinds as Lana walked into the lobby of Meridian Pharmaceuticals. She hadn't slept. Her footsteps echoed on the polished marble floor as she walked toward the exit, a cardboard box in her arms.

A crowd had gathered near the reception desk.

Whitney Sterling was standing there, leaning against the high counter. She saw Lana and raised her voice.

"Look everyone," she announced. "The thief is leaving the building."

Lana kept walking. She focused on the revolving door. Just twenty more feet.

"Hold it, Ms. Day," a security guard stepped in front of her. He looked uncomfortable. "Ms. Sterling ordered a bag check. Company property."

"That's illegal," Lana said. "These are personal effects."

Whitney pushed off the desk and marched over. She didn't ask. She slapped the box out of Lana's hands.

It hit the floor. Lana's notebook slid across the marble. A framed photo of Wayne and Lana shattered, glass skittering everywhere. A blue folder landed near Whitney's feet.

Whitney stepped on the photo. She ground her heel into Wayne's smiling face. "Trash belongs in the trash."

Lana looked up. On the mezzanine level, behind the glass railing, Wayne was watching. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his face blank.

Lana crouched down. She ignored the glass. She picked up the blue folder.

She stood up and dusted it off.

She looked up at the mezzanine. She locked eyes with Wayne.

"Wayne!" Lana shouted. Her voice carried through the silent lobby. "Since you tore up our agreement, this contract is void too."

Wayne frowned. He leaned forward slightly.

Lana ripped the folder in half. The sound of tearing paper was sharp and final. She tossed the pieces into the metal trash can next to the security desk.

"Is that your resignation letter?" Whitney laughed. "Who cares?"

Lana stepped close to Whitney. "That was the single-copy annex to the licensing agreement. It contained the proprietary formula for Meridian's core ingredient. The one only Delta Lab can synthesize."

Whitney blinked. "What?"

Lana pulled out her phone. She dialed. She put it to her ear.

"Greg," Lana said. "It's Lana. Cut the supply chain to Meridian immediately. Initiate Plan B."

The lobby went dead silent. Even the receptionist stopped typing. Everyone knew Delta Lab was the only reason Meridian could manufacture their flagship drug.

Lana hung up.

She saw Wayne's face change. The color drained out of it. He gripped the railing. He turned and ran for the stairs.

Lana pushed past the stunned security guard and walked out the revolving door.

"Lana!" Wayne burst out onto the sidewalk a moment later. He was breathless. "Who did you call? What is this game?"

Lana put on her sunglasses. The sun was bright.

"You'll find out soon enough," Lana said. "Consider it my severance package."

She hailed a taxi.

As the car pulled away, Lana looked back. Wayne was digging through the trash can in the lobby, trying to piece the blue folder back together.

Her phone buzzed.

Greg: It's done. Legal notice sent.