Chapter 2
The antiseptic smell of the hospital waiting room burned my nostrils as I sat rigidly in an uncomfortable plastic chair. The fluorescent lights cast everyone in a sickly pallor, but I barely noticed. My mind was crystallizing into something hard and clear, like diamond formed under pressure.
My mother paced nearby, her shoes clicking against the linoleum floor as she alternated between worried glances at the door where doctors were attending to my father and furious muttering in Mandarin.
"He's stable," the nurse had told us twenty minutes ago. "The doctor will be out soon."
Stable. Unlike my life, which had shattered beyond recognition in the span of an afternoon.
I pulled out my phone, my fingers steady despite the storm raging inside me. Two emails. That's all it would take to begin.
The first was to a divorce attorney whose card I'd kept after she'd handled a colleague's messy split. Subject line: Immediate Representation Required.
*I need to file for divorce on grounds of fraud and bigamy. My husband of three weeks is currently celebrating his wedding to another woman at the Plaza Hotel. I can meet as early as tomorrow morning.*
I hit send without hesitation.
The second email was to Marcus Sterling, founder of Sterling Capital. He'd approached me at a tech conference six months ago, offering me a position that I'd politely declined out of loyalty to Christopher. Loyalty. The word tasted bitter now.
*Mr. Sterling,*
*I hope your offer of a position at Sterling Capital still stands. I am available to start immediately and believe my decade of experience building Blake Technologies from the ground up would be an asset to your firm. I bring with me an intimate knowledge of the tech investment landscape and relationships with key players that could prove valuable.*
*I look forward to your response.*
*Natalie Chen*
As I pressed send, something shifted inside me. The tears that had threatened earlier dried up, replaced by a cold clarity. Christopher had taken ten years of my life, my dreams, my trust. Now I would take everything from him.
My phone pinged almost immediately with a response from Sterling.
*Ms. Chen,*
*The position is yours. My office, 9 AM tomorrow. We have much to discuss.*
*Marcus Sterling*
My mother stopped pacing. "Natalie? What are you doing?"
"Taking back my life," I said, my voice steady. "And then destroying his."
---
Three hours later, my father was resting comfortably, prescribed medication for his heart and strict orders to avoid stress. I'd kissed his forehead, promised to call in the morning, and headed back to the penthouse to pack what I needed.
On the taxi ride, I watched Christopher's emergency press conference streaming on my phone. He stood at a podium, Victoria nowhere in sight, his expression appropriately solemn.
"It is with mutual respect that I announce Natalie Chen has resigned from Blake Technologies to pursue other opportunities," he said smoothly. "Her contributions to the company have been valuable, and we wish her well in her future endeavors."
The practiced lie slid from his lips so effortlessly that for a moment, I almost doubted my own reality. But then I remembered his cold eyes at the Plaza, the cruel dismissal: *It was all you deserved.*
I smiled at the screen. Let him think he was controlling the narrative. Let him believe I was slinking away in humiliation. The truth would become apparent soon enough.
---
"Ms. Chen? I'm Jessica Riley."
The young woman who greeted me at Sterling Capital the next morning had sharp eyes and a firm handshake. Her tailored suit and no-nonsense demeanor immediately put me at ease.
"Mr. Sterling asked me to show you to your office and help you get settled," she continued, leading me through the sleek, modern space. "He's in meetings until eleven but wanted me to assure you that all resources of the firm are at your disposal."
My new office was twice the size of the one I'd had at Blake Technologies, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Manhattan skyline. A welcome basket sat on the desk alongside the latest model laptop and a tablet.
"Is there anything specific you need to get started?" Jessica asked, tablet poised to take notes.
I set my bag down and turned to her. "What do you know about Blake Technologies?"
Something flickered in her eyes—interest, perhaps recognition of the unspoken question. "I know they're about to lose their biggest clients," she said without missing a beat.
I smiled, really smiled, for the first time in what felt like years. "Jessica, I think we're going to work very well together." I gestured to the whiteboard that took up one wall. "Let's start mapping out who to approach first."
As we sketched the blueprint for Christopher's downfall, client by client, investor by investor, I felt a strange lightness. The woman who had sacrificed everything for Christopher Blake was gone. In her place stood someone new—someone who understood that revenge wasn't just about destruction.
It was about rebuilding yourself into something he could never break again.