I was leaving soon anyway. I didn’t owe them anything—not my kindness, not my patience.
I went to the company.
This empire had been built with my own hands. I had secured our first investment, stood behind Cortland’s every risky decision, and even used my own money to patch the holes when he went down the wrong path.
But today, I came to reclaim everything that was mine.
When I walked into the office, whispers erupted like wildfire.
“I heard the Vice President got kicked out?”
“About time. That woman strutted around here every day like she’s the CEO.”
“Well, doesn’t the CEO always have Ms. Fenty by his side now? She’s considerate and gentle. Not like that woman, always acting so high and mighty.”
Some of them looked at me with pity as I passed. Others curled their lips in open disdain.
I said nothing. I simply made my way to my desk and began gathering my documents and belongings.
I pulled out my phone, my finger hovering over the message to my assistant: [Initiate divestment].
But before I could send it—a crisp slap echoed through the office. My phone flew from my hand, landing on the floor with a crack. The screen shattered.
I looked up to see Cortland stood before me, his face twisted with fury. Behind him trailed Thalia, looking delicate and wronged.
“Damn, Saylor, you’re disgusting!” he growled through clenched teeth. “Just to get back at me, you went crawling into bed with the CEO of a rival company?”
His eyes were shooting daggers. “And now you want to blame Thalia?”
“No, Cortland, don’t…” Thalia reached out to stop him, her eyes brimming with tears. “Please don’t say that… Saylor isn’t that kind of person. It must be a misunderstanding…”
“Misunderstanding, my ass!” Cortland roared.
He flung a stack of documents in his hand. Photo after photo scattered across the office floor, fluttering down like damning snow.
“What the hell is this?! If I hadn’t caught it in time, these would’ve been edited to look like Thalia—and spread across the whole company!” he yelled.
The photos lay everywhere, painfully sharp and in high definition—images of me with another man, appearing intimate, checking into hotels, looking like lovers.
The room exploded with murmurs. Gasps, whispers, stunned silence.
I stood rooted in place, hands clenched into fists so tight that my nails cut into my palms.
The man in the photos? He was the CEO of our rival firm.
I had never met him in private. Not once.