Chapter 4 · Take The Money And Run

Holden left, a man utterly defeated.

The partnership proposal lay untouched on the table, swiftly retrieved by his anxious vice president as they left.

I knew my words had shattered the narrative he had clung to for three years.

He had cast himself as the wronged hero in a grand tale of betrayal and redemption, casting me as the villainess motivated solely by greed.

His entire drive had been fueled by the fantasy of a triumphant return, of making me regret my choice.

Now, I had torn that script to pieces.

I showed him he was never the hero, but a deluded fool in a farce of his own making.

The collapse of his personal myth was a more devastating blow than any financial ruin.

But I didn't feel a shred of sympathy for him.

A thirty-year-old man building his life upon a fantasy deserved the collapse. It was a long-overdue awakening.

I assumed that was the conclusion of the matter.

Whether HopeWell Tech came back with a deal was of no concern to me.

SURA wasn't lacking for partners, and funding was the least of my concerns.

But the very next day, my phone rang. It was the last person I expected to hear from: Linda Wellesley.

Her voice held a weariness that had eroded the haughty superiority I remembered from three years before.

"Ms. Rayner. I need to see you," she said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Mrs. Wellesley. I can't imagine what we have left to discuss."

"It's about Holden." A pause, heavy with unspoken anguish. "He came home yesterday and locked himself away. He won't eat. He won't speak. I know this is because of you."

"I merely clarified his situation," I replied, my tone flat.

"Please." The word was a whisper, stripped of all its former power. "I am begging you. As his mother."

Silence stretched on my end.

I had no desire to ever see her again.

Yet, something in the raw plea of her voice, a mother's desperation, made me relent.

"Fine. You choose the time and place."

*****

The meeting was set at the Wellesley manor, a solitary estate that loomed from the hillside, guarded by iron gates and an air of unapproachable grandeur.

I drove myself there. Then the housekeeper ushered me inside.

Linda was waiting in the living room. She was dressed in casual clothes, her posture deflated.

The formidable matriarch was gone, replaced by a mother ravaged by worry.

"You came." She gestured to the sofa opposite.

I sat. "Let's not waste time, Mrs. Wellesley. What did you want to discuss?"

She ignored my question, pouring a cup of water for me. "I never pictured you as the force behind SURA. These past three years must have been a difficult journey."

The attempt at maternal concern felt strange coming from her.

"I've managed," I replied, my tone noncommittal.

"I hear the brand is very successful now. That celebrities wear it," she said. Her gaze held a complex, unreadable emotion. "You have formidable talent. I misjudged you back then. I'm sorry."

The apology was unexpected.

"The past is irrelevant, Mrs. Wellesley."

I had no interest in rehashing history with her.

"It's not that simple for me." A bitter smile twisted her lips.

"Holden told me everything. He said he hates me. For lying to him for three years. For destroying his relationship. For letting him play the fool in a pathetic story of his own making."

I remained silent, letting her words hang in the air.

"Susan," she said, looking up. Her eyes were desperate. "I know what I did was wrong. The way I treated you was unforgivable. But Holden loved you.

"These past three years, the hatred he voiced was just the other side of that coin. He never let you go. Every late night at that company, every deal he pursued... it was all to prove himself to you."

"So what?" My voice was icy with sarcasm. "Go to him? Comfort him? Tell him your manipulations were for his own good, and we should just pick up where we left off, as if the last three years never happened?"

She flinched and shook her head. "No. That's not what I'm asking. I know that bridge is burned."

She retrieved a thick document from beneath the coffee table and pushed it toward me.

"This is a share transfer agreement for HopeWell Tech. I am prepared to sign over fifty-one percent of my shares to you. Unconditionally."

Chapter 4

Holden left, a man utterly defeated.

The partnership proposal lay untouched on the table, swiftly retrieved by his anxious vice president as they left.

I knew my words had shattered the narrative he had clung to for three years.

He had cast himself as the wronged hero in a grand tale of betrayal and redemption, casting me as the villainess motivated solely by greed.

His entire drive had been fueled by the fantasy of a triumphant return, of making me regret my choice.

Now, I had torn that script to pieces.

I showed him he was never the hero, but a deluded fool in a farce of his own making.

The collapse of his personal myth was a more devastating blow than any financial ruin.

But I didn't feel a shred of sympathy for him.

A thirty-year-old man building his life upon a fantasy deserved the collapse. It was a long-overdue awakening.

I assumed that was the conclusion of the matter.

Whether HopeWell Tech came back with a deal was of no concern to me.

SURA wasn't lacking for partners, and funding was the least of my concerns.

But the very next day, my phone rang. It was the last person I expected to hear from: Linda Wellesley.

Her voice held a weariness that had eroded the haughty superiority I remembered from three years before.

"Ms. Rayner. I need to see you," she said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Mrs. Wellesley. I can't imagine what we have left to discuss."

"It's about Holden." A pause, heavy with unspoken anguish. "He came home yesterday and locked himself away. He won't eat. He won't speak. I know this is because of you."

"I merely clarified his situation," I replied, my tone flat.

"Please." The word was a whisper, stripped of all its former power. "I am begging you. As his mother."

Silence stretched on my end.

I had no desire to ever see her again.

Yet, something in the raw plea of her voice, a mother's desperation, made me relent.

"Fine. You choose the time and place."

*****

The meeting was set at the Wellesley manor, a solitary estate that loomed from the hillside, guarded by iron gates and an air of unapproachable grandeur.

I drove myself there. Then the housekeeper ushered me inside.

Linda was waiting in the living room. She was dressed in casual clothes, her posture deflated.

The formidable matriarch was gone, replaced by a mother ravaged by worry.

"You came." She gestured to the sofa opposite.

I sat. "Let's not waste time, Mrs. Wellesley. What did you want to discuss?"

She ignored my question, pouring a cup of water for me. "I never pictured you as the force behind SURA. These past three years must have been a difficult journey."

The attempt at maternal concern felt strange coming from her.

"I've managed," I replied, my tone noncommittal.

"I hear the brand is very successful now. That celebrities wear it," she said. Her gaze held a complex, unreadable emotion. "You have formidable talent. I misjudged you back then. I'm sorry."

The apology was unexpected.

"The past is irrelevant, Mrs. Wellesley."

I had no interest in rehashing history with her.

"It's not that simple for me." A bitter smile twisted her lips.

"Holden told me everything. He said he hates me. For lying to him for three years. For destroying his relationship. For letting him play the fool in a pathetic story of his own making."

I remained silent, letting her words hang in the air.

"Susan," she said, looking up. Her eyes were desperate. "I know what I did was wrong. The way I treated you was unforgivable. But Holden loved you.

She flinched and shook her head. "No. That's not what I'm asking. I know that bridge is burned."

She retrieved a thick document from beneath the coffee table and pushed it toward me.

"This is a share transfer agreement for HopeWell Tech. I am prepared to sign over fifty-one percent of my shares to you. Unconditionally."