Chapter 2

I woke to sunlight streaming through my bedroom curtains, my eyes swollen and raw from a night of relentless tears. For one blissful moment, I existed in the limbo between sleep and consciousness, before the memories crashed back—William's cold voice, Chloe's triumphant smile, hundreds of pitying eyes watching my humiliation.

My phone had been buzzing incessantly since yesterday. News articles, social media notifications, messages from people I barely knew offering hollow condolences. I'd turned it off after the twentieth text asking for the 'real story.'

I forced myself to sit up. The Garcia Corporation. I still worked there—at least, I thought I did. William was my boss, but we'd always kept our relationship separate from our professional lives. Surely he wouldn't...

But even as I tried to reassure myself, a cold certainty settled in my stomach. Of course he would.

Still, I had to go. I needed the job, and more importantly, I needed to show them all that Victoria Lewis wouldn't crumble so easily.

I dressed with deliberate care—a sleek black pencil skirt, crisp white blouse, and the pearl earrings I'd bought myself after my first promotion. Armor for the battle ahead.

"Victoria?" My mother's voice called from downstairs, tentative for once. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Work," I replied, my voice surprisingly steady as I descended the stairs.

My parents exchanged a look that made my spine stiffen. Pity. Disappointment. Calculation.

"Darling," my father began, clearing his throat, "perhaps it would be better to take some time. The Garcia family—"

"I don't care about the Garcia family," I cut him off, reaching for my car keys. "I care about my career."

My mother's lips thinned. "You should care. That connection was everything we—"

"Everything you wanted," I finished for her, a lifetime of suppressed resentment bubbling to the surface. "Not everything I wanted."

It was a lie, of course. I had wanted it too—the security, the belonging, the love I thought William offered. But standing in my parents' immaculate living room, watching them mourn the loss of status rather than comfort their daughter, something hardened inside me.

"I'll be late," I said, and walked out before they could respond.

The Garcia Corporation headquarters loomed against the morning sky, all glass and steel and intimidating angles. I'd always felt a flutter of pride walking through those doors. Today, I felt only dread.

I swiped my access card at the security gate. The light flashed red.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Lewis," the security guard said, not meeting my eyes. "Your access has been... revoked."

Of course it had. I swallowed hard, feeling the eyes of the morning crowd on my back.

"I see. Could you call up to HR, please?"

After an excruciating wait in the lobby, an HR assistant I barely recognized escorted me upstairs, her eyes darting everywhere but at me. The elevator ride was silent, heavy with unspoken words.

The marketing department, where I'd worked for three years, fell silent as I walked in. Colleagues I'd laughed with, collaborated with, celebrated with—all suddenly fascinated by their computer screens or shuffling papers. Only Jessica Miller, from the design team, offered a small, sympathetic smile.

"Victoria," she whispered as I passed her desk, "I'm so sorry."

I managed a nod, throat too tight for words, and continued to my office—only to find the nameplate already removed and the door locked.

"Ms. Lewis." The cold voice behind me sent a chill down my spine. "My office. Now."

William stood at the end of the hallway, his face impassive, as if we were nothing more than distant acquaintances. As if he hadn't knelt before me with a ring just six months ago, promising forever.

I followed him, acutely aware of the whispers that followed us like shadows.

His office—the office I'd helped him decorate when he was promoted to Marketing Director—felt foreign now. He didn't invite me to sit.

"I think it's best if we make this quick," William said, not bothering with pleasantries. "Your position here has been terminated, effective immediately."

"On what grounds?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

He had the audacity to look annoyed. "Victoria, be reasonable. Your continued presence here would be inappropriate and disruptive. The company can't afford the distraction."

"The distraction of your jilted fiancée, you mean," I said quietly. "Not the distraction of the man who left his bride at the altar for her maid of honor."

A muscle twitched in William's jaw. "HR has prepared your severance package. It's generous, considering the circumstances."

"The circumstances being that you want me gone before Chloe starts working here?" The words were out before I could stop them.

William's eyes flashed. "Chloe will be joining the executive team next month. It would be... awkward."

Of course. He wasn't just replacing me in his life; he was replacing me in every aspect of it.

"You have until the end of the day to clear your desk," he continued, sliding a folder across to me. "Security will escort you out."

I stared at him, searching for any trace of the man I thought I knew. There was nothing—just cool detachment and impatience to be done with an unpleasant task.

"Was any of it real, William?" I asked softly. "Did you ever love me at all?"

Something flickered in his eyes—discomfort, perhaps, but not regret. "I thought I did. But what I feel for Chloe... it's different. More intense. You deserve someone who feels that way about you."

The platitude stung worse than outright cruelty would have.

Before I could respond, a commotion erupted in the hallway outside—raised voices, hurried footsteps, the distinctive sound of doors being flung open.

"Where is he?" a deep, authoritative voice demanded. "Where is William Garcia?"

William's face drained of color. "Christopher," he whispered, and for the first time that morning, I saw genuine fear in his eyes.

The door to William's office burst open without a knock, and there he stood—Christopher Garcia, William's older brother, a man whose reputation preceded him like a storm front.

Taller than William, with the same dark hair but sharper features, Christopher radiated a cold, controlled power that seemed to suck all the oxygen from the room. His eyes swept over me briefly before locking onto his brother.

"William," he said, his voice deceptively soft. "I see you've been busy in my absence."

I stood frozen, caught between the brothers, as the atmosphere crackled with tension. Whatever was about to happen, I had a feeling it would reshape more than just my life.

Christopher's gaze flicked back to me, his eyes assessing, penetrating, seeing far more than I was comfortable revealing. A slight smile curved his lips—not warm, not kind, but knowing.

"Ms. Lewis, I presume?" he said. "I believe you and I have much to discuss."