Chapter 2He Traded A Queen For Trash

The fluorescent lights of the engineering floor hummed as I methodically placed my belongings into a cardboard box.

With every object I touched, a ghost of the past flickered in my mind. Five years. Five years of my youth, boxed up in minutes.

Five years ago, we had graduated from Stanford. To support his startup dreams, I had quietly declined my acceptance into a prestigious Ph.D. program. I followed him to Silicon Valley, blindingly in love. During the worst of it, we lived in a windowless, converted garage in Palo Alto, surviving on instant ramen and sheer willpower.

When the company finally found its legs, I practically lived in the R&D lab. I coded until my vision blurred, bounced between server farms and investor pitches, and dragged this company out of obscurity to become a titan in the tech industry.

I had mortgaged my life for him. And in return, Damian handed me a masterclass in betrayal.

If he was so arrogantly certain he could steer the ship without me, then fine. I would give him exactly what he wanted. He had become a stranger to me—a hollow, corporate monster—and there was absolutely no reason to tether myself to a ghost.

I was done playing the martyr. Starting today, I was going back to being the brilliant, unstoppable woman I was before I let him dim my light.

"What, did you find yourself a richer sugar daddy? Trashing the cheap jewelry already?"

I looked up. Paige was leaning against my cubicle wall, radiating a smug, victorious glow. She reached into my wastebasket and pulled out the simple silver promise ring I had tossed moments earlier. She examined it with a sneer. "I guess this might fetch enough to buy you a few cheap meals. Such a shame. Meanwhile, I'll just have to suffer through taking over your corner office and enjoying the high life."

I felt a dark, quiet amusement settle in my stomach. This girl had spent so much time studying how to manipulate a man that she hadn't bothered to study the company. If she had an ounce of observational skill, she’d know that my "office" was a grueling, thankless war room.

I kept my face entirely placid, offering her a soft, dismissive smile. "Well then. Enjoy the view."

Paige scoffed, annoyed by my lack of tears. "Laugh all you want. Keep up the brave face. We all know you're going to go home and cry until your lungs give out."

She was half-right. My smile was fake. But she couldn't have been more wrong about the crying.

The moment the crisp night air hit my face outside the corporate plaza, I pulled out my phone and dialed my parents, who were currently wintering in St. Barts.

When they answered, I didn't hesitate. "I'm coming home. I'll take over the family conglomerate. And... you can set up that meeting with the Winchester family."