Chapter 3

My dad owns over a hundred companies and regularly ranks in the top twenty on Forbes.

I’m the textbook definition of a trust fund kid.

But when I first met Emily, I vividly remember her telling me about how, as a child, her father had been killed in a hit-and-run by some spoiled rich kid. The driver, protected by his family’s wealth and influence, avoided any real punishment and was out of jail within days.

Ever since then, Emily has harbored a deep hatred for the wealthy.

So, to be with her, I hid my background. I turned down every opportunity my family offered me, moved to a small city with her, and poured my entire savings into helping her start her business.

Until yesterday, I naively believed that Emily and I had finally made it, that all our sacrifices had been worth it.

But now, I realize just how badly I’ve lost.

After hanging up the phone, I returned to the small apartment Emily and I shared. The room was decorated beautifully—warm and romantic. Heart-shaped candles lined the floor, and in the center was a bouquet of vibrant blue roses.

Nestled within the roses was an elegant diamond ring.

Beside it, there was the deed to a luxury house—the one I’d planned to surprise Emily with.

I had imagined her reaction so many times, picturing the joy and love in her eyes. But now, none of that mattered. Emily would never even see it.

I grabbed everything—the ring, the flowers, the deed—and tossed it all into the trash.

Then, I booked a flight for the next evening. I needed one day to wrap up my work and hand everything over.

“Ding.”

My phone buzzed with a notification.

It was a video from Ryan.

In the clip, Ryan was carrying Emily bridal-style, her face flushed as she clung tightly to his neck, burying her face in his chest. They looked every bit the perfect couple.

Around them, coworkers cheered and clapped, shouting for them to kiss.

The video disappeared seconds later, deleted.

Then, a message popped up.

“Oops, sorry, sent that by mistake.”

Of course, I didn’t believe him. Ryan had always been deliberate with his moves. This was just another one of his games.

Over the past few years, he’d pulled stunts like this countless times.

Normally, I’d lose my temper, confront Emily, and end up being scolded by her.

"Can you stop being so sensitive? Maybe focus more on work instead of this nonsense?"

At first, I thought I was overthinking it. But one time, when Emily was sick and half-delirious, she called out Ryan’s name.

That’s when I realized her heart was no longer with me.

This time, I didn’t feel anything. I simply blocked Ryan without hesitation and deleted his contact.

Not long after, my phone rang.

It was Emily.

“Jake, did you block Ryan?” she demanded the moment I picked up, her tone icy and accusatory.

She didn’t care what Ryan had done—only that I had blocked him.

“I did,” I replied flatly.

“What’s wrong with you? He’s your coworker! How is he supposed to do his job now? He thinks he must have done something wrong and has been blaming himself, crying nonstop. Add him back and apologize!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you even know what he sent me?”

There was silence on the other end, probably as she checked with Ryan. A few seconds later, she replied dismissively, “So what if he sent the wrong picture? It’s not a big deal.”

Of course. When it came to Ryan, nothing was ever a big deal.

I let out a cold laugh. “You’re right, it’s no big deal. Just like when he ‘accidentally’ sent the wrong pricing sheet to a client, and we lost millions because of it.”

That incident had been catastrophic. Ryan had sent our bottom-line pricing to a partner, leading to multiple contract cancellations and negotiations. A week’s worth of hard work—and over a million dollars—went up in flames.

Emily hadn’t cared then, either.

The line went quiet for a moment. Clearly, she remembered the incident.

Then I heard Ryan’s voice in the background, soft and hoarse. “Emily, Jake’s probably just upset about the shares you gave me today. I should apologize to him.”

Emily’s tone immediately softened. “No need, Ryan. It wasn’t your fault. Let him cool off on his own.”

And with that, she hung up.

It was always like this. Whenever we argued, Emily would use the excuse that I needed to “calm down” to spend more time with Ryan instead.

But this time, I didn’t feel angry.

I calmly drafted my resignation letter and sent it to HR.

3The moment I hit send on the resignation email, I felt a wave of relief wash over me, as if a heavy weight had been lifted.

Around 2 a.m., I was deep asleep when my phone buzzed with another call from Emily.

"Pick me up. I’m still at the hotel from earlier," she said.

I could hear the lively background noise on her end—probably another one of her work events.

Normally, I’d have jumped out of bed, thrown on some clothes, and rushed over to get her. But this time, I simply yawned, my voice calm and lazy.

"Call a rideshare," I said. "There are plenty around that area."

Emily paused, her tone shifting to suspicion. "Are you asleep?"

"Yeah," I replied, nonchalant.

In the past, whenever Emily went out for work or networking, I’d stay up worrying about her safety, unable to sleep until she was home. But tonight, I slept like a baby. Even her call felt like an unwelcome disruption to my rest.

She didn’t argue further. About half an hour later, she came home.

I had just stepped out of the bathroom when we locked eyes in the hallway.

"You’re up," she said softly. "Make me some noodles. I’m starving."

Her tone was gentle, almost coaxing. I knew this was her way of extending an olive branch, trying to smooth things over. Whenever we fought, she’d lean into her vulnerability to reopen communication and bridge the gap.

But that only worked because I loved her.

Now that love was gone, ground down to nothing, and all I felt was irritation.

"Cook for yourself," I said flatly. "Or order something if you don’t know how."

I turned and headed toward the bedroom, but Emily stepped in front of me, blocking the door.

That’s when I caught the faint scent of Ryan’s cologne lingering on her.

"Jake, are you seriously still upset?" she asked, her tone a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

"I’ve already explained this to you—everything I’m doing is for the company. Just because we’ve gone public doesn’t mean we can relax. If anything, now’s the time to focus even harder."

"Ryan may not be the most capable," she continued, "but he’s got connections, he’s great at networking, and his family owns businesses we might collaborate with in the future. Giving him shares wasn’t about favoritism—it was about what’s best for the company."

I hadn’t expected her to justify herself like this.

But it didn’t matter. Whether she believed her own excuses or not, I didn’t.

"Mm-hmm," I replied dismissively and walked into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

Emily must’ve been stunned because she stood outside for a moment before angrily kicking the door. "Fine! Act like this all you want, Jake! But don’t come crying to me later when you regret it!"

The next morning, I came out of the bedroom to find Emily sitting on the couch, meticulously ironing a brand-new suit.

When she saw me, she immediately jumped up, holding the suit out toward me.

"Here, try this on," she said cheerfully, practically shoving it into my hands.

I recognized it instantly—it was a limited-edition Chanel suit. Not only was it outrageously expensive, but it was also notoriously hard to get. Social media was full of posts about how it was the perfect gift for a boyfriend.

I’d even hinted to Emily once that I thought it looked amazing.

After changing into the suit, I stepped out of the bedroom, feeling an unexpected tightness in my throat. I was about to say something, but Emily spoke first, her tone light and teasing.

"You and Ryan are about the same size. It fits you perfectly, so it should look just as good on him."

She smiled as she reached out to carefully take the jacket off me.

"Be careful not to wrinkle it," she added. "I spent so much time getting it just right."

Then, she folded the suit back into its gift box, looking pleased with herself, and headed out the door with it.

I knew she was doing this on purpose, punishing me for yesterday.

But instead of feeling angry, all I felt was a sense of detachment. It was childish, after all.

Later that morning, I got a call and made my way to the office to finalize my resignation.

The moment I stepped into the building, I spotted Ryan sitting on my desk, surrounded by coworkers fawning over him like he was the star of the show.

One of them walked up to me with a smug grin. "Jake, go grab some coffee for everyone."

"Why?" I asked, checking my watch. I wasn’t late.

The coworker grinned wider. "Emily said whoever gets to the office last has to buy everyone coffee. And guess what? You’re the last one here."

"Don’t worry about it," Ryan cut in, standing up and adjusting the suit jacket he was wearing—the same one Emily had taken that morning.

"I wouldn’t want Jake running errands for everyone," he said, his voice loud enough for the whole room to hear. "I’ll go instead."

Of course, he made no move to leave.

Right on cue, Emily walked out of her office. Her eyes flicked to Ryan’s suit, and for a split second, her expression faltered before she quickly recovered.

She stepped forward, straightening his collar with a smile. "I knew it would look great on you," she said warmly.

The others erupted into cheers and laughter.

Emily’s face flushed slightly as she glanced at me, clearly checking to see if I’d react with jealousy or anger.

But I didn’t. My heart was like a still lake—calm, empty, and unaffected.

Emily didn’t seem satisfied with my lack of response. Her tone turned cold as she said, "I already told everyone—whoever got here last needs to buy coffee. If you’re not going to cooperate, why are you even here?"

A coworker pointed at me. "Jake was the last one in."

Emily smirked. "Go on, then. And if you don’t, I’ll fire you."

Apparently, she hadn’t seen my resignation email yet.

I didn’t bother hiding it anymore.

"I’m not here to work," I said calmly. "I’m here to resign."

4

The room fell silent.

Some of my coworkers, the ones who still got along with me, couldn’t help but lean in and whisper.

"Jake, are you sure about this? The boss just announced raises for everyone. Quitting now would be a terrible move."

"Yeah, didn’t you hear her tone? She was just joking earlier."

I stayed calm, my voice steady. "I’m not joking. I already submitted my resignation to HR yesterday."

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flicker of excitement in Ryan’s expression.

He opened his mouth, ready to say something, but when he saw Emily’s unreadable gaze, he swallowed his words and stayed quiet.

Emily frowned, her eyes narrowing as she looked at me.

"Do you even realize what you’re doing? Do you understand how much you’re giving up by walking away from this company right now?"

Of course, I knew.

I was giving up stress, manipulation, and the invisible chains that had kept me tied here for far too long.

Ryan, ever the opportunist, put on his usual wounded act. "Jake, I get it. You’re still upset with me, right?" He sighed dramatically. "Maybe I should just leave instead. After all, you and Emily have worked together for so many years. It’d be a shame for you to go now."

As he spoke, he started heading for the door, glancing at Emily out of the corner of his eye, clearly waiting for her to stop him.

I almost laughed out loud at how obvious he was.

Sure enough, Emily fell for it—or pretended to. She grabbed his arm, her voice soft and affectionate.

"This has nothing to do with you, Ryan. No one’s asking you to leave."

Ryan’s face lit up with smug satisfaction.

Still, he wasn’t done with his performance. He sighed again, shaking his head as though he were making a huge sacrifice. "But Jake’s been with the company for so long. I’ll try to talk some sense into him."

He walked up to me, putting on a show for the audience.

"Jake, come on," he said, his voice dripping with fake sincerity. "Think it over. We’d all hate to see you go. Honestly, we’ve always thought of you as a good friend."

As he spoke, he patted my shoulder—harder than necessary.

And then, when no one else was watching, he pinched me. Hard.

The sharp pain shot through my shoulder. Without thinking, I kicked him square in the chest.

Ryan fell to the ground, clutching his chest and gasping for air.

Emily rushed over, kneeling beside him, her face full of concern and panic.

I couldn’t help but think back to the time I’d worked so hard to close a deal that I drank myself into the hospital with stomach bleeding. She hadn’t cared half as much then.

Emily shot to her feet, her face twisted with anger. She slapped me across the face.

"Are you insane, Jake?" she yelled. "Ryan was just trying to help you, and you attacked him? What kind of person bullies their coworker like this?"

At that moment, HR walked into the room, clearly on their way to discuss my resignation.

Before they could even speak, Emily snapped, "Process his paperwork and get him out of here. Now."

She signed off on my resignation without hesitation, but she wasn’t done.

As if to rub salt in the wound, she added, "This company is making hundreds of thousands in profits every day. Only an idiot would leave now."

Then she turned to Ryan, her tone softening again. "Don’t worry, Ryan. In a few months, you’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted—houses, cars, anything. I’ll make sure of it."

The other coworkers chimed in, their excitement palpable.

"Emily’s the best!"

"Next month, whoever hits the top sales goals, I’ll buy them a house," Emily declared confidently.

Ryan’s eyes sparkled with greed, and the others cheered louder.

Emily’s arrogance grew as she basked in their praise.

"And as for certain people," she said, casting a cold glance my way, "who think they can bully their coworkers and refuse to follow orders—I’ll make sure no company ever hires them again."

The room erupted into laughter and insults aimed at me, their voices growing more frenzied by the second.

For a moment, I hesitated. Should I say something? Should I tell them what I knew?

That morning, my dad had called to let me know something interesting. Turns out, the biggest investor in Emily’s company for the past two years was… him.

When he heard I was planning to quit and return home to take over the family business, he decided to run a full background check on her company.

The results weren’t good.

He’d already decided to pull the investment, citing breach of contract. Not only that, but he was planning to sue for triple damages.

I knew exactly how much weight my dad’s company carried in her investment portfolio.

Once he pulled out, forget about buying houses and cars—keeping the company afloat for another month would be a miracle.

I opened my mouth to say something but stopped.

Emily mistook my silence for regret. She rolled her eyes and sneered.

"Well? If you apologize to Ryan now, there’s still time to fix this."

"Otherwise—"

Before she could finish, someone burst into the room.

It was the head of finance, their face pale and anxious.

"Emily, we’ve got a problem," they said quickly. "Our biggest investor just sent a notice. They found serious discrepancies in our financial records and suspect fraud. Not only are they pulling out, but they’re also suing us for triple damages!"

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