Fruit of Ruin

And yet, Alan still chose to do all this just to force me to give in.

My phone buzzed with a new notification. It was Alan.

[If you apologize now, you still have a chance.]

I didn't reply. I tossed my phone aside and went to wash up.

He must have forgotten that the Westarken contract existed because of me alone. Their team didn't trust the company; they trusted me.

After washing up, I went downstairs to grab breakfast from a café.

When I came back, I found all my things thrown out of my office.

I found my water bottle and documents tossed aside. Even the signed divorce papers had been ripped clean down the middle.

The only thing left untouched was our wedding photo. Someone had placed it carefully on the balcony.

Larissa was sitting in my chair, radiant and smug.

"Sorry, Myra," she said, her smile full of challenge. "Alan already gave me this office. From now on, you'll be sitting over there."

She pointed proudly toward the leaking, tiny storage room next to the bathroom.

I couldn't be bothered with her. I turned instead to Alan, who had been silent the entire time.

He looked like he hadn't slept all night, and his eyes were bloodshot, but there was a twisted smirk on his face.

"Larissa's right. I gave her the office. But if you take back the divorce, I might consider…"

"No need."

I cut him off, grabbed the wedding photo from the balcony, and tossed it straight into the trash, right under Alan's slightly triumphant gaze.

"I don't want this, either. You can throw it out."

I picked up my laptop and walked out, pretending not to notice Alan's eyes turning red with anger.

It was Monday. I would start my new job the next day, so I still had packing to do.

I didn't attend the evening press conference.

Instead, I stayed home and finalized the project with the Westarken partners, now as a manager of Dominex Corp.

Right when everything was confirmed, a message from Alan appeared.

[I invited the media to livestream tonight's event. If you don't apologize, you'll have nothing to do with the Westarken contract.]

I glanced at the message and immediately turned on "Do Not Disturb" mode.

It was about time for me to head to the airport.

At 7 p.m., reporters began arriving at the press conference. The event was being streamed across the whole city.

Larissa had hired an expensive celebrity makeup artist and was dressed to perfection, clinging to Alan's arm with a bright smile.

Alan looked sharp as always in a gray suit, but his eyes kept sweeping over the crowd restlessly. He wondered where I was, and the excitement he had felt earlier slowly turned into unease.

Even so, the press conference had to continue.

Alan tightened his lips and took the microphone.

"Good evening. I'm Alan Holt, president of Holt Enterprise. Today's event is to announce our partnership with Galken Group on the Vespera project in Westarken. This project…"

"Hold on!"

A reporter wearing an International Finance Network badge suddenly stood up.

"Mr. Holt, are you sure you're talking about the Vespera project?"

Alan froze.

"Of course. This is our company's…"

Before he could finish, his assistant rushed onto the stage, leaned in close to his ear, and uttered in panic, "Bad news, Mr. Holt! One minute ago, Dominex Corp released an official statement. They've taken over the Vespera project. Ms. Mendez has jumped ship!"