Chapter 2
But when the company finally succeeded, it was Vivian who got the title.
The elevator chimed as it reached the 28th floor.
The doors slid open to a vast, modern office. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the Riverdale skyline, where the silver river cut through the city like a silk ribbon.
"Right this way, Ms. Jennings," a young assistant said, stepping forward to greet her.
Claire followed him into a conference room. At the end of the table, a man in his early thirties sat in a light gray suit and gold-rimmed glasses, reviewing a stack of papers.
He heard her footsteps and looked up.
In that moment, Claire's breath caught.
She recognized him immediately.
Five years ago, during the university's centennial, she had been chosen to speak as a distinguished graduate.
A young investor in the audience had challenged her with a sharp question, saying, "Claire, do you believe capital is accountable to profit, or to social responsibility?"
She had answered, "True capital can serve both. They are not mutually exclusive."
After the event, he had handed her a business card and said, "If you ever decide to go into investing, give me a call."
She had taken the card but never used it.
Only a month later, she had met Michael and thrown herself blindly into what she thought was love.
"Charles?" Claire said, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and uncertainty.
Charles smiled, stood up, and walked over. "Long time no see, Claire."
He offered his hand, and after a brief hesitation, Claire took it. His grip was warm, dry, and firm.
"Please, have a seat," Charles said, gesturing toward a chair. He poured her a cup of coffee. "Did you have any trouble getting here in the rain?"
"No, it was fine," Claire said, accepting the cup. Steam curled around her fingers. "Mr. Sterling, about that resume..."
"I had someone put it together for you," Charles said frankly. "Word has gotten around the industry regarding your work at Landon Holdings over the last three years. Most people just don't realize you were the real mastermind behind those major deals."
Claire's fingers tightened around her cup.
Charles continued, "Last year, when Michael was about to lose that renewable energy deal because the other party backed out at the last second, you flew a red-eye and saved it with an entirely new proposal.
"The year before that, when Landon's financing collapsed, you found a breakthrough, brought in a government-backed investor, and made the IPO possible."
"And," Charles paused, "just last month, when Landon Holdings was nearly exposed in a fraud scandal, you used every connection you had to contain the fallout."
Claire's head snapped up, her eyes wide. "How do you know about that?"
Only she and Michael were supposed to know about the fraud. Or rather, she knew, while Michael remained under the impression that she was completely in the dark.
Vivian had cooked up that ten-million-dollar fake account, and Michael had signed off on it, thinking Claire would never find out.
"I have my channels," Charles replied, adjusting his glasses. "Claire, I didn't call you here because I pity your divorce, and I'm not trying to steal you away from Michael. I truly need someone with your talent."
He opened a file and slid it across the table toward her.
"Starlight Capital is launching a new fund focused on women-led startups. I need someone who understands the mechanics of capital—and the reality of what women face," Charles said.
Locking eyes with her, he added, "The base salary is a million dollars, plus bonuses and equity. You'll lead your own team and build the entire investment system from scratch. It won't be easy."
Claire traced the embossed gold letters on the offer letter with her fingertips.
"Why me?" she asked. "Riverdale is full of top-tier investors."
"Because they only care about numbers, while you care about people," Charles replied. "I still remember your speech from five years ago. You said capital should recognize human worth, not just asset value."
He stood up and walked over to the window. "Claire, you have two paths. One: take your 150 grand, rent a studio, find a mediocre job, and let those three years fade into nothing.
"Or two: take this role, and make the people who dismissed you come begging for your partnership one day."
Outside, the rain had stopped, and sunlight pierced through the breaking clouds.
Claire caught her reflection in the glass—pale-faced and poised, the light in her eyes burning brighter with every passing second.
She picked up the pen and signed the offer letter.
Her signature was so sharp it nearly tore the paper.
"So, when do I start?" Claire asked.
"Right now," Charles said with a grin, hitting the intercom. "Tell everyone in the investment department to head to Conference Room One. I want them to meet their new director."
An hour later, Claire stood at the front of Conference Room One.
Twenty young faces stared back at her, their expressions a mix of curiosity, scrutiny, and a faint, poorly hidden contempt. An outsider parachuted into a director role, and Michael's ex-wife, no less. The skepticism was palpable.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Claire," she said, her voice steady. "As of today, I am heading Starlight Capital's 'Her Power' Fund. Our initial fundraising target is 300 million dollars, and we will focus on three key sectors: female-driven consumer goods, health tech, and professional services."
A hand went up. "Claire, as far as I'm aware, you've never managed a fund independently. What makes you think you can hit a 300-million goal?"
The question was blunt.
Claire looked at the young man and smiled. "Because the annual female consumer market is worth over 300 billion dollars, yet less than five percent of investment reaches women-led startups.
"Because I understand the support a mother needs to re-enter the workforce, the pressure a single woman feels when buying a home, and the resources a female student lacks when launching a business."
She paused. "And because I just got divorced and left with nothing. I know better than anyone what it takes for a woman to stand back up after losing everything."
The room fell silent for a heartbeat.
Then, someone started clapping. It began with a few hesitant hands, but the applause grew until everyone was on their feet, giving her a standing ovation.
Charles leaned against the doorway, joining in with soft, approving applause.
After the meeting, Claire retreated to her new office.
Charles followed her in and handed her a folder. "Here is your first mission. Next week is the 80th birthday celebration for the elder Mr. George Landon, and Michael plans to announce his engagement to Vivian during the party."
Claire's fingers clenched.
Charles said, his gaze fixed on her, "At the party, Landon Holdings will launch a luxury jewelry line called 'Vivian's Smile.' They've brought in European designers and are looking to raise 100 million.
"Your job? Announce the 'Her Power' Fund at that same event—and steal every investor they have lined up."
Claire opened the folder, skimming the party details, the guest list, and the business plan for the new brand.
"How did you get this?" she asked quietly.
"Landon's marketing director quit last month; he's on my payroll now," Charles replied with a faint smile. "Business is war, Claire. If you show mercy, they won't."
Claire snapped the folder shut.
"I understand," she said. "I'll do it."
Outside, the setting sun bathed the city in gold. In the distance, the Landon Holdings tower gleamed—the place where she had poured three years of her life into someone else's dream.
Claire picked up her phone and dialed a number.
"Susan, it's me," she said. "I need a favor. For the Landon party next Wednesday, I need a date. Someone so dazzling that Michael won't know what hit him."
Susan Young laughed on the other end. "Look at you, Claire! One day post-divorce and already plotting. Don't worry, I'll find someone perfect to make him eat his heart out."
After hanging up, Claire walked to the window.
Her reflection looked back—calm, determined, with a cold fire in her eyes.
Michael was planning an engagement announcement.
She would make him watch. He would watch how brightly the woman he threw away could shine.
Her phone buzzed with a message from Michael: [Grandpa's birthday is next Wednesday, 7 PM, at the Grandview. Dress appropriately. Don't embarrass the family.]
Claire read it and slowly typed her reply: [Relax. I promise you'll remember this night for the rest of your life.]
She hit send, then blocked him.
Setting the phone aside, she opened her laptop and got to work.
The real battle had just begun.