Chapter 3
That night, I checked into a hotel near my office.
At 1 a.m., I gathered all the evidence and sent it to Olivia Carter.
Olivia Carter, my college roommate, was now a family law attorney.
Less than ten minutes after I sent the email, she called me.
"Grace, you finally woke up?" Olivia said.
She hadn't changed a bit, still blunt as ever.
I leaned against the headboard, watching the neon lights outside. "Yeah," I replied softly.
"This is big." Olivia switched straight into lawyer mode. "Transferring marital property behind your back, forging your signature... If we've got the evidence lined up, they'll be in deep.
"Don't let yourself get soft, and don't even think about going home. Send me your location, I'll come find you in the morning."
"Okay."
"And what about BrightPath Media? Weren't you working on projects there with Andrew?"
The mention of the company made my stomach clench again.
"I'll tell you tomorrow," I said.
"Alright. Try to get some sleep tonight. And if you can't, don't go calling your ex. You'll just end up regretting it," Olivia said.
After hanging up, I still couldn't sleep.
Andrew's company, BrightPath Media, was something he started up with a friend three years ago.
I was the one who stood by him through those brutal early days.
When he couldn't land any clients, I hooked him up with contacts from my old ad agency.
When he couldn't write scripts, I pulled all-nighters, fixing them for him night after night.
The company's first few viral videos? I wrote the copy, burned the midnight oil on the plans, and crafted the brand from the ground up, piece by piece.
Later, when he finally got some funding, I got laid off from my old job, and he convinced me to join him.
He promised, "Once the company gets big, you'll be the boss's wife and my partner."
I believed him.
But three years went by, and my business card still just said "Content Consultant."
The salary was nothing to brag about, and nobody ever mentioned shares.
People called me the boss's wife to be polite, and the BrightPath Media crew only showed me respect because of Andrew. But when it came to who got the projects, who had a voice, or who got the resources, I was always dead last.
For the past six months, BrightPath Media had been gunning for a huge cultural tourism project.
The city was launching a major campaign to revitalize the old town, with a massive budget. Whoever landed this project would instantly become a big player in the industry.
Every stage, from groundwork to core concept, was my responsibility.
I visited over forty old shops, interviewed more than a dozen artisans, rewrote the script outline seven times, and even came up with the project name: Lights of Old Town.
At last week's company meeting, Andrew brought in the new VP, Sophia Lane, and introduced her to the team.
Sophia was fresh back from abroad, with a killer resume and a real talent for networking and making things happen.
After looking over my proposal, she smiled and said, "The creative ideas are definitely there, but the business side could use some work. Still, for the boss's wife, not bad at all."
The conference room was packed that day.
Nobody batted an eye at her comment.
And Andrew was no exception.
He simply shrugged it off. "Sophia will help you fine-tune it."
Help me.
It felt like the proposal wasn't even mine anymore, that I was just the assistant, doing whatever they needed.
That made me really uncomfortable.
But I never expected they'd not only try to take my house, but also wipe my name off the project like I never existed.