Chapter 4

On handover day, all I gave Maeve was the most basic operating guide.

Everything she could see was exactly what I allowed her to see.

It was like an iceberg floating in the ocean. Ashley only stared at the tip above water and thought she had everything under control.

But she had no idea that the massive reef below the surface was big enough to sink any overconfident ship.

Ashley was way too naive. She thought finance was basic math.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

In this position, finance was a weapon in the game, negotiation leverage, and a way to control people.

"If Richard finds out, how pissed do you think he will get?" Emily nudged me with her elbow, looking like someone waiting for a show to start.

I shook my head. "No idea. He's still in Kasdon, fighting off jet lag. When he figures out what's happening, he'll be dead in the water."

Richard probably never realized that the business empire he prided himself on was already hollow at its core.

And the only one who could've fixed those cracks was the very person he'd kicked out himself.

I was lost in thought when my personal phone, sitting off to the side, suddenly buzzed.

It was an unfamiliar local number.

I hesitated for a second, then swiped to answer.

The voice on the other end was shaky, almost crying. It sounded both familiar and strange. "O-Olivia, it's me, Maeve."

My brows furrowed. I had kept that number a complete secret. How did she get her hands on it?

Maeve's voice was on the edge of breaking from panic. "Olivia, please, come back and save us. The books are all messed up. We can't make the numbers work no matter what.

"Ms. Carter said if we don't get everything balanced by tonight, she'll let the whole team go."

"Did Ashley ask you to call me?" I asked coldly.

"No, it's not that. I secretly got your number from Ada Warner in the old admin department. Olivia, we know you got a raw deal back then, but we never forgot how good you were to us. Please, just this once. Can you help us out?"

Maeve was crying so hard she could barely breathe. She truly sounded desperate.

But right now, my heart was stone cold.

"Maeve, I've already left Voyage Tech. Their mess isn't my problem anymore," I said.

"But... but there's 40 million dollars missing. That is such a huge hole. If we can't fill it, the stock will hit the daily limit down tomorrow. Olivia, you've poured over a decade of yourself into this company," she sobbed.

Forty million dollars. I gave a cold smile to myself.

They hadn't even scratched the surface. The real hole was way bigger than 40 million dollars.

"That's your problem, not mine." My voice was as casual as if I were talking about the weather.

"Back then, Ms. Carter couldn't wait to show me the door, saying the company needed someone more professional. Well, let those 'professionals' take care of it now," I said.

With that, I hung up and blocked Maeve's number.

Emily gave me a thumbs-up. "That's what I'm talking about. You can't go easy on someone who flips sides like that."

I didn't say anything, but it felt like my chest was stuffed with a heavy, suffocating weight.

I wasn't trying to prove a point to Maeve, and I had zero interest in getting dragged back into Ashley's mess. I was just suddenly so tired.

For 12 years, I was like a firefighter on call. I kept putting out all kinds of fires for Richard and that giant corporate machine again and again.

But now, I was done being the unsung firefighter in the background.

I wanted to watch the building I'd painstakingly built, one that always had someone else's name on the door, finally burn.

I wanted to see what scraps would be left when the flames died down.

I wanted to see if the guy perched up high would get choked by the smoke and tumble down from his throne.

It was late at night. Emily was already fast asleep in the bedroom.

I sat alone in the pitch-black living room. Sleep was the last thing on my mind.

Just before one in the morning, my phone buzzed again. It was an international number.

When I saw those digits I could recognize anywhere flash across the screen, my heart clenched.

It was Richard. He'd actually flown back early.

I stared at the flashing caller ID as it lit up again and again, letting the phone ring on.

First call, second, third. I didn't pick up, but I didn't decline either.

I watched, like I was saying goodbye to a chapter of my life that belonged to the past.

Finally, the buzzing stopped.

Right after, a text popped up, carrying a strongly aggressive tone. [Olivia, pick up the phone.]

That same commanding tone, with an unmistakable air of authority that brooked no argument.

I let a faint, cold smile tug at my lips.

Then, slowly, I blocked his number too.

This was where the show ended, Richard.

No. Actually, the real show, the one starring me was just getting started.

The next morning, Voyage Tech dominated the financial headlines.

[Voyage Tech Delays Earnings Report. Major Risks Brewing Inside]

[Financial Turmoil Rocks the Market. Voyage Tech's Stock Crashed the Moment the Market Opened]

[Rumors of Key Executives Leaving Set Off a Domino Effect. Voyage Tech's Books Expose a Huge Hole]

The news story was written as if it were a big deal, and the photo showed the entrance of Voyage Tech's headquarters completely swarmed by reporters.

Emily scrolled through her phone, sounding impressed. "Olivia, you really went for the jugular with this one. Richard must be losing his mind right now."

I slowly ate my oatmeal, my face calm. "Good. If he didn't lose it, he'd never feel the pain."

"So he hasn't been looking for you everywhere? By now, he should be camped out downstairs, begging for forgiveness," Emily said.

"He did," I replied flatly. "I blocked him everywhere. Calls, messages, all of it."

Emily nearly spat out her oatmeal. "That's it. You go girl."

I grabbed a napkin and wiped my hands, not saying a word.

I knew Richard all too well. His tricks never stopped at one move.

With his temper, the moment he realized he couldn't reach me, he'd storm straight home. Back to that cold, lifeless place we used to call home.

He'd walk in and see the place deserted, most of my things already gone.

He'd lose it, start smashing things, convinced I was throwing a tantrum, trying to make him cave by walking out.

Once he finished blowing up and wrecked things, he'd calm down and use his network to find out where I went.

By then, what would be waiting for him was the divorce agreement already signed and only needing to be filed.