Chapter 3
Ten days after the divorce, I got a call I didn't see coming.
It was from Sarah's mother—my ex-mother-in-law, Helen.
"Lucas," she said, her voice three times more enthusiastic than usual.
"Hi, Mrs. Young," I replied.
"Oh, don't be so distant. You could still call me by my name," she let out an awkward laugh, then jumped right to the point. "Lucas, I wanted to ask you about something."
"Sure, what is it?"
"Sarah's company seems like they're running into some trouble lately. Is there any way you could help out?"
I let the silence hang for a few seconds, thinking.
"Mrs. Young, Sarah and I are divorced now," I said.
"I know, I know, but you two were married for seven years. How can you walk away like that? Sarah wasn't thinking straight—"
"Helen," I cut her off, "do you know about her and Andrew?"
There was a pause on the other end.
"Yeah, I know," she said.
"So, do you think she was just being impulsive, or did she really think it through?"
"Well—"
"She asked for the divorce. She wanted to make it official with someone else. I didn't try to stop her or make a fuss—handled everything cleanly, no drama. Now her company's in trouble, and she wants my help? That's not my responsibility anymore."
"But—"
"Why not let Andrew handle it? Didn't she say that with him around, she's got nothing to worry about?"
Helen let out a sigh on the other end.
"Lucas, when did you get so ruthless all of a sudden?"
I held the phone, a faint smirk tugging at my lips.
'Ruthless?' I thought.
Helen had seen everything I'd done for Sarah over the past seven years.
But what about her attitude toward me?
Every time we had a family gathering, she'd introduce me like this.
"This is my son-in-law. What does he do again? Oh, right, he's in tech."
I was just the tech guy.
Just two words and I was out of the picture.
Everything I built, my company, my platform, and my network, meant nothing to her. To her, I was just the tech guy.
But when she introduced Sarah, here was what she'd say.
"My daughter is the CEO of her own startup—she's really made something of herself."
I couldn't help but scoff to myself.
"Helen, I've got something to take care of. I'll have to go now," I said.
"Wait, hold on—"
I hung up.
*****
Later that afternoon, Nathaniel came to my office to give me an update.
"Mr. Grant, Young & Co. is already looking for new suppliers. But the prices they used to get from us were internal rates—no one else is going to give them that kind of discount. From what we can tell, their procurement costs are going to jump by at least 40%," he said.
"Got it," I replied.
"And—" Nathaniel pushed up his glasses, "Andrew introduced a tech company to them, saying they can take over the backend system. I had someone look into it."
"What did you find?"
"It's a shell company—just set up three months ago. The owner? Andrew's cousin."
I set my pen down.
I looked out the window.
The sky was overcast, like rain was about to fall.
"Keep an eye on it," I said.
"Got it. Also, Mr. Grant, James has already started. He wanted to ask—"
"Tell him not to rush. Let's focus on our own projects first. As for Young & Co.—" I turned my attention back to Nathaniel. "Just sit back and watch the show."
Nathaniel nodded and left the room.
I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes for a moment.
I wasn't being ruthless.
For seven years, she had taken everything I gave her, but always made it seem like it was all her own achievement.
I never expected her to be grateful.
But she shouldn't have acted like she was entitled to everything when she walked away.
As if it was hers by default.
As if nothing would change without me.
Alright. Let her learn the hard way.
*****
Twelve days after the divorce, Sarah's social media feed went dead silent.
No more fancy restaurant check-ins, no more seaside villas, no more cutesy couple selfies.
Three days in a row, not a single update.
I knew exactly why.
Because in those three days, all three of her clients sent legal notices, demanding refunds and compensation.
All because her projects were way past their deadlines.
1 million dollars.
I heard this from James. When he left, some of our old colleagues were still there.
Everyone was chatting in the group chat every day.
Sarah practically lived at the office for three days. By the end, her dark circles looked like she'd gone ten rounds with a boxer.
Andrew still came to pick her up every day.
But he'd only stay at the office for less than ten minutes before leaving.
"He said he didn't understand technical stuff and that it should be left to the professionals," James said, his tone a little off.
The professionals.
The most skilled expert Sarah had by her side had already been personally driven away by her.
*****
It was the fifteenth day after the divorce.
At 11 p.m., my phone buzzed.
A message from Sarah popped up on WhatsApp. [Lucas, are you there?]
I stared at those words, unmoving.
Three minutes later, another message came through.
[I want to meet you. There's something I need to talk about.]
Two minutes later, another message came through.
[Please.]
Just that one word.
I'd known Sarah for seven years.
She'd never once asked me for anything, never said "please."
She was the kind of person who'd rather break than bend.
Back in the early days, when things were rough, the investors gave her a hard time, acting all high and mighty. She'd rather walk away from a round of funding than ever back down.
But now, she was actually saying "please."
Things were falling apart faster than I'd expected.
I typed back. [Tomorrow at noon. The usual spot.]
Sarah: [Okay.]
She replied instantly.
For a second, it felt surreal.
Back then, if I messaged her, waiting an hour or two for a reply was just how it went.
Sometimes, she just wouldn't reply at all.
Now, she replied right away.
Because now, she needed something from me.
Kind of ironic, really.