Chapter 4
A week later.
Not only did the three clients fail to return, but two more decided to end their partnerships.
All five of Shaw Corp's core clients were gone in one week.
Shaw Corp's quarterly revenue was cut in half.
The CFO rushed into Isabelle's office, his face pale. "Ms. Shaw, we won't have enough cash flow to last more than two months."
Isabelle sat in her chair, staring at the five termination notices lined up neatly in front of her.
Suddenly, something clicked in her mind.
For the past three years, Gavin had been the one writing all the quarterly client maintenance reports.
She'd never bothered to read them.
She'd always thought they were unimportant.
What could a useless kept man possibly do that mattered?
She had her secretary pull up Gavin's work files from the past three years.
As soon as she opened the first page, she froze.
Stellar Holdings, Handled by Gavin. He kept the relationship going with monthly personal visits.
Riverside Realty, Handled by Gavin. Maintained through personal connections.
Skyline Technologies, Handled by Gavin. Maintained through personal connections.
Bluewave Media, Handled by Gavin. Maintained through annual private dinners.
Summit Capital, Handled by Gavin. Maintained through personal connections.
All five of Shaw Corp's core clients.
Every single one of them was handled by Gavin.
And every single one of them was maintained through personal connections.
When she flipped to the last page, she saw a line in small print. [All these client relationships were built before Gavin even joined Shaw Corp, thanks to his own network.]
Before he even started at Shaw Corp.
His own network.
Isabelle's fingertips went cold.
These clients never really belonged to Shaw Corp.
They were Gavin's.
She closed the file and picked up her phone.
She scrolled to "Gavin" in her contacts,
His contact was still there.
Even after the divorce, she still hadn't deleted his number.
She hesitated for a moment, then pressed the call button.
"Beep, beep."
"The number you have dialed is switched off," an automated voice said.
Switched off.
She tried again.
Still switched off.
Charles leaned over. "Isabelle, who are you calling?"
Isabelle set her phone down on the desk. "No one."
She didn't want Charles to know she was trying to reach Gavin.
That would be way too embarrassing.
Ask her ex-husband to come back and clean up this mess? What a joke.
"I'll handle the client situation," Isabelle said, taking a deep breath. "Get started on the new proposal, we'll need it for the board meeting next week."
"Leave it to me," Charles said with a grin, then headed out of the office.
As soon as the door closed, Isabelle pressed her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes for a moment.
Her phone screen was still lit up, still showing the call log.
[Gavin] sat there, quietly staring back at her.
For three years, that name had been no more important to her than a cup of coffee she'd knocked over.
But today, it suddenly felt heavy.
Meanwhile, what was Gavin doing right now?
I was sitting at a food stall on the pedestrian street, digging into a bowl of loaded chili.
Alone.
No more schmoozing, no more putting on airs, no more damn three-piece suits.
Yeah, my phone. Switched off on purpose.
Frankie was sitting across from me, twirling up some pasta. "You switched off your phone because you're waiting for her to call, huh?"
"Nope," I said, dunking a piece of tripe into the broth. "Honestly, I don't want to pick up."
"Fair enough. So, what's your plan now?"
"I'm starting my own company."
"Wait, what?" Frankie paused mid-slurp. "You're serious?"
"I already filed the registration yesterday. Got the name picked out, too."
"What's it called?"
"Genesis Capital."
Frankie clicked his tongue. "Showing off, huh?"
I laughed.
Showing off? What for?
These were my connections, my resources, my clients.
Three years ago, I handed everything over to Shaw Corp because I promised my father-in-law I'd look after his daughter.
But now, she straight up told me she didn't need me anymore.
So it's only right I take back what's mine.
"So, all those clients are really going to follow you?" Frankie asked.
"Honestly, they're probably more desperate than I am right now," I said, setting down my fork and grabbing my phone.
First thing I see is a message from Marcus.
Marcus: [Gav, where the hell have you been? I've got the contract waiting for you. When are you gonna get started?]
Next up, Felix: [Gavin, heard you're going solo now? I've got a new project, a hundred million dollars. Waiting for you to jump in.]
And then there's Emmett, straight to the point with a voice message: "Gavin, are you ghosting me? Get your new company set up already, I'm ready to wire the money."
"Check this out," I said, handing my phone to Frankie.
He looked over the messages, then quietly put his fork down.
Then he stood up.
"What's up?"
Frankie came around to my side, patted me on the shoulder, and with mock sincerity said, "Mr. Grant, need a driver? I can even throw in a back rub as a side gig."
I booted him away with my foot.
Isabelle couldn't take it anymore.
Five days after the divorce, she came herself.