Without me, Neal and Tania didn't stand a chance at landing this contract.
Gilbert Corp was destined to crumble.
Back home, I stared at the handprint on my face. The tears I'd been holding back finally spilled over.
I picked up my phone. The company group chat had exploded—99+ unread messages. I tapped it open, and my blood ran cold.
The chat was flooded with videos. All of them showed Neal at the hospital, taking care of Tania.
He gently wiped her face. Carefully tucked the blanket around her.
And then, egged on by our coworkers, he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.
The comments poured in:
"A perfect match! They were made for each other!"
"Mr. Gilbert treats her so well! I'm so jealous!"
I stared at the screen, my fingers trembling.
For the sake of so-called "professionalism," Neal had publicly snubbed me time and time again. He wouldn't even ride the same elevator as me.
That had made me the office laughingstock. Gold-digger. Desperate. Shameless.
And now? Here he was, openly intimate with Tania, without a shred of restraint.
So his "professionalism" had only ever applied to me.
The last thread of attachment I had to Neal disintegrated into dust.
I deleted every chat history with him. Blocked him on everything.
I stared at the breakup text on my screen. Hesitated for a moment.
Then hit send.
"Neal, we're done."
