Chapter 3

After endless negotiations, I finally locked down an investment of more than 20 million dollars, just enough to drag the company back from the edge.

Quinton had no idea that, minutes earlier, he had tossed away the company's last lifeline, along with his own future.

Once I left the office, I called the investor and kept my tone as courteous as possible.

"I'm sorry about the inconvenience, Mr. Snyder. There's an issue with the company seal, so the contract needs to be voided for now. When would you be available to re-sign?"

Scott Snyder was a titan in the industry, someone who rarely showed his face in public. If I hadn't once saved his life during a heart attack, our paths probably never would've crossed.

To my surprise, the old man sounded genuinely puzzled.

"I thought you were being transferred to Northreach. I saw your company's announcement. It said all of your accounts are being handed over to a young woman, Ms. Roffe or something."

I went still.

In that instant, I knew Quinton had gone behind my back.

I steadied myself and forced a light laugh. "That must be an internal mix-up. I'm staying put and continuing to handle your account. Even if I ever did take a trip to Northreach to relax, I'd let you know well in advance."

Scott chuckled. "Alright, then. I'm free tomorrow."

After ending the call, I swallowed my anger and unlocked my phone, only to be hit by a flood of messages.

Clients were asking why I was being sent to Northreach and when I planned to return.

When I opened the screenshots they sent, it became clear that Quinton had posted on social media, announcing my transfer and instructing everyone to contact the newly appointed vice president, Andrea.

I hadn't seen the post at all. He had clearly hidden it from me.

Without hesitating, I made my own post.

I attached a screenshot of Quinton's announcement with a massive "FAKE" stamped across it.

The caption read, [I'm still here. Please don't be misled. For business matters, feel free to contact me directly!]

I was replying to clients one by one, my fingers shaking with exhaustion, when Quinton's call came through. His voice was clipped and irritated.

"Lisa, take that post down immediately. Do you have any idea how many people are calling Andrea a fraud and unfollowing her? She's crying right now.

"You're leaving anyway, so what's the point of clinging to these clients? She came from nothing and didn't have it easy. If you had even a shred of decency, you wouldn't do this to her. Delete the post now, or I'll officially terminate you. Don't come crying to me then."

The way he shielded Andrea almost made me laugh.

"Andrea's had a hard road. So have I. Who hasn't? I built these relationships by grinding day and night, entertaining clients, doing their laundry, cooking meals, driving their kids around, and even helping them sort out family messes. And now you expect me to just hand everything over to Andrea? Not a chance."

Quinton stalled, unable to refute it. He finally replied in a cold, official tone, "If you refuse to comply with company restructuring, then we do not need an employee with zero team spirit."

He was trying to strong-arm me again.

This time, I answered calmly, "Perfect. Go ahead and fire me."

I ended the call, stopped by a nearby print shop to print the divorce papers, and headed home.

What I didn't expect was the sharp, spicy scent that hit me the moment I reached the door, like chili peppers burning in the air.

I pushed the door open.

At a glance, I saw Andrea in the kitchen, slipping off Quinton's apron while playfully poking his side.

Quinton stood there holding a spatula, laughing like he hadn't a care in the world.

Hearing the sound, they both turned.

Quinton immediately pushed Andrea aside and hurried over to me.

For once, he took off my coat and hung it for me.

"Why are you home so late?"