1 On my wedding day, my fiancé’s secretary drenched my parents in red wine. Right there on the red carpet, my father’s hairpiece was knocked askew, my mother’s designer gown was soaked to the skin, and a wave of snickers rippled through the high-society guests. Furious, I gathered the heavy skirts of my wedding dress and stormed into the bridal suite, only to find Thomas gently wiping the wine stains from Tavi’s hands. “It was just an accident,” he said, his voice casual and indifferent. He didn’t even bother to look up at me. “Don’t be so petty.” I stared at his hand, wrapped protectively around Tavi’s wrist, and a sudden, sharp laugh escaped my throat. “Thomas, the wedding is off.” He finally raised his head. “Ann, stop making a scene.” “Do you even realize what day it is?” I looked at him, then at Tavi, who stood shivering behind him with tears pooling in her eyes. She was wearing her bridesmaid dress, shrinking back as if she were a defenseless victim. “I’m so sorry,” Tavi whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s all my fault. I only wanted to help your parents adjust their clothes before the ceremony, but I lost my footing.” “So,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “you’re saying my parents deserved to be covered in Cabernet, and we should thank you for your thoughtfulness?” Tavi’s face drained of color. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Thomas stepped in front of her, shielding her further. “Ann, do you have to be so venomous? Tavi already apologized. What more do you want?” I stared at the man I had loved for seven years. I used to think I knew him better than anyone. Now, he felt like a total stranger. Outside that door were hundreds of guests and my humiliated parents. Inside, my fiancé and his secretary were playing the roles of the noble protector and the damsel in distress. “What do I want?” I repeated, taking a slow step toward him. “Thomas, you know my father has a weak heart. You know how much my mother values her dignity. Today, they stood in front of the entire city, taking the brunt of everyone’s mockery for our sake. And you, my groom, are in here comforting the person who did it.” My voice didn’t tremble. It was flat, cold, and entirely hollow. Thomas shifted uncomfortably. “I told you, she didn’t do it on purpose. I’ve already sent my assistant to handle the situation. I’ll go explain things to your parents in a minute.” Explain? With what? His silver tongue? Was he going to patch up my parents’ shattered dignity with a few empty words? A wave of exhaustion washed over me. Every single time, it was the same excuse. She’s just my assistant, Ann, don’t overthink it. She’s trying to make it in the city all on her own, it’s only right that we look out for her. Yes, she had it so hard. So hard that she could call him away in the middle of our anniversary dinners. So hard that she could buy the exact same matching couple’s sweaters we owned and claim they were company uniforms. So hard that she could completely ruin our wedding day. Because I loved him, I was expected to be gracious, understanding, and silent. But why? I reached behind my back and began aggressively tearing at the laces of my wedding dress. The custom, six-figure gown I had spent three months perfecting was ripped open with brutal force. Thomas’s eyes widened in shock. “Ann, have you lost your mind?!” He lunged forward to stop me, but I stepped aside. The heavy silk slid off my body, pooling on the dusty floor in a ruined, crumpled heap of white. It looked exactly like the wreckage of our seven years together. I stood before him in nothing but a simple silk slip. The air conditioning in the suite was blasting, but I didn’t feel the cold. When your heart is dead, the chill can’t reach you anymore. “Thomas, we’re done.” I threw those words at him, turned on my heel, and walked out. Tavi’s gasp and Thomas’s angry shouts were cut short as the heavy door slammed shut behind me. Barefoot, I walked down the freezing tiled corridor, leaving that golden cage behind. When I reached the grand ballroom, I saw my parents. The coordinator had ushered them into a quiet corner. My mother was frantically dabbing at my father’s face with wet napkins. My father’s shoulders were hunched, his usual proud posture entirely gone. The lingering glances of the remaining guests cut through us like knives. I walked over, slipped off my blazer, and draped it over my mother’s damp shoulders. “Dad, Mom,” I said, my throat tight. “Let’s go home.” My mother looked up, seeing me in my slip, and her eyes welled with fresh tears. “Ann, sweetheart, what about the...” My father pushed himself up from the table, his lips trembling, unable to find his words. I didn’t explain. I simply took their hands, and with my spine perfectly straight, I led them out of the venue under the suffocating silence of the room. Behind us, Thomas’s voice echoed through the lobby. “Ann! Stop right there!” There was a rare note of panic in his shout. I didn’t pause. I didn’t look back. Neither did my parents. We left that grand farce of a wedding behind without a single backward glance. The moment we stepped inside our house, my mother collapsed onto the couch, sobbing uncontrollably. My father sat in his armchair, lighting one cigarette after another, filling the living room with a thick, gray haze. I knew he was trying to use the nicotine to suppress the chest pain and his surging blood pressure. I didn’t cry. The tears had dried up the moment I walked out of that hotel. I went to my bedroom, pulled out my phone, and methodically blocked Thomas on every single platform. Contacts, social media, messaging apps, everything. In ten minutes, I erased seven years of history. Once that was done, I called my assistant. “Book me the earliest flight out of the country, anywhere will do. Also, list my penthouse at Starlight Heights for sale immediately. Price it to sell fast.” The penthouse was the wedding gift Thomas had bought me, situated right across from his corporate headquarters. He had told me he wanted to look out his office window and see my light on every night. Now, the memory tasted like ash. My assistant gasped on the other end of the line. “Boss, did you and Mr. Montgomery...” “We broke up.” I hung up, and a profound, quiet stillness settled over the room. That night, my father’s blood pressure spiked to a dangerous high, and we had to rush him to the hospital. Standing by his bedside, watching his fragile, sleeping form, the very last trace of affection I had for Thomas vanished. Thomas didn’t call. He probably assumed I was just throwing a tantrum, throwing a fit until I eventually crawled back to him like I always did. After all, that had been our dynamic for seven years. The next morning, a text from an unknown number lit up my screen. Ann, enough is enough. Come home. Stop making us the laughingstock of the city. Even now, his priority wasn’t me or my family. It was his precious reputation. I blocked the number immediately. On the third day, his mother, Mrs. Montgomery, called. Her tone carried its usual condescending warmth. “Ann, darling, I know you’re hurt. But you know Thomas. He’s a workaholic, he treats everyone with the same professional intensity. I’ve met Tavi, she’s a sweet, simple girl, not the conniving type you’re making her out to be. Don’t lower yourself to her level. Thomas was wrong about the wedding, and I’ve already given him a piece of my mind. Come back home, and let’s sit down as a family to discuss this.” Family? I let out a cold laugh. “Mrs. Montgomery, you seem to be mistaken. The moment I walked out of that hotel, we ceased to be family. Do not call me again. My father is in the hospital, and I have absolutely no patience left for your family.” I cut the call. Finally, the world was quiet. I spent the next week at the hospital until my father’s condition stabilized. During those seven days, Thomas made no attempt to reach out. I figured he was furious, angry that I had dared to bruise his ego. Good. A clean break was the best outcome I could hope for. On the day of my father’s discharge, the real estate agent called. “Ms. Ann, we have an offer on the penthouse. The buyer is willing to pay above asking price, but they have one condition. They want to meet you in person to finalize the paperwork.” Though surprised, I agreed to the meeting. We scheduled it for the following afternoon at the penthouse. I arrived early. Walking through the front door, the apartment was exactly as I had left it. Our framed engagement photo still sat prominently on the console table in the entryway, both of us smiling radiantly. I walked over, picked up the frame, and dropped it directly into the trash can. At three o’clock sharp, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Thomas standing on the threshold. He had lost weight, a dark shadow of stubble covered his jaw, and his expensive designer suit was noticeably wrinkled. He looked uncharacteristically disheveled. When his eyes met mine, they softened with a complicated mix of emotions. “Ann,” he rasped. I leaned against the doorframe, my expression completely blank. “You’re the buyer?” He nodded, taking a step forward to enter. I extended my arm, blocking his path. “Mr. Montgomery, we aren’t on those terms. You can inspect the property, but please respect my boundaries.” Thomas froze, staring at me. “Ann, do you really have to be like this? Seven years of love, thrown away over one minor mishap?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “A minor mishap? In your world, what qualifies as a major issue, Thomas? Do my parents have to die of a heart attack, or do I have to jump off this balcony before you think it’s serious?” The words hit him like a physical blow. His face went pale. “I didn’t mean it like that! Ann, I know I messed up. Just forgive me this once, please?” He reached out to grab my hand, but I stepped back, letting his fingers grasp empty air. “It’s too late, Thomas. The moment you chose to protect Tavi over my family, it was over.” I turned back into the apartment and pulled a folder from the coffee table. “Here is the deed and the sale contract. I’ve already signed my portion. The price is standard market value, transfer the funds to this account. I’ll have all my belongings cleared out within three days.” I pressed the folder against his chest. “Sign it if there are no objections. Don’t waste my time.” Thomas didn’t take the folder. He just stared at me, his eyes bloodshot. “Ann, how can you be this heartless? You threw away the wedding dress. Now you’re selling the penthouse. You want to erase every single trace of us, don’t you?” I met his gaze, my voice steady. “Yes.” That single word seemed to shatter his composure entirely. His shoulders trembled, and his eyes welled with tears. “Why? Just because of Tavi? There is nothing going on between us! I’ll fire her. I’ll send her away and never see her again! Ann, just give me one more chance!” The arrogance was gone, replaced by a desperate, rambling plea. But I was done listening. “You’re missing the point, Thomas. The issue was never Tavi. It was you. In your heart, your career, your pride, and your needy staff will always come before me. I’m tired of betting my life on the hope that you might one day look back and see me.” Without another word, I walked into the bedroom and began packing. Thomas didn’t follow. He stood in the living room like a statue. I packed my clothes, my books, my makeup, stripping the apartment of any sign that I had ever existed there. Finally, I rolled my two heavy suitcases toward the door. He hadn’t moved an inch. As my hand touched the brass doorknob, his gravelly voice echoed from behind me. “Ann. Do you really think you’ll survive out there without me? Everything you have right now, who do you think gave it to you?” I paused, turning my head slightly. “Thomas, you’re about to find out exactly how well I can live without you.” I didn’t go back to my parents’ place. Instead, I rented a small, modern loft close to my office. I needed my own sanctuary to heal and rebuild. The public relations firm I ran had gained a decent reputation over the years. It was true that Thomas’s corporate backing had helped me during the startup phase. But I was no longer the fragile girl who needed to lean on him to survive. I had built a solid portfolio of clients who trusted my strategic mind, not my relationship status. The first thing I did upon returning to the office was call an all-hands meeting. “Starting today, we are restructuring our client portfolio. All active accounts and pending campaigns with Montgomery Enterprises and its subsidiaries are suspended immediately.” The room erupted into murmurs of shock. My managing partner and closest friend, Natalie, was the first to speak up. “Ann, are you insane? The Montgomery accounts make up nearly half of our annual revenue! You can’t just cut them off. We’ll starve!” I looked at her, my expression calm. “Natalie, I understand your concern. But there are some checks that aren’t worth cashing. As for the revenue gap, I’ll find a way to plug it.” She wanted to argue, but I raised a hand, silencing the room. I knew it was a massive gamble. But I also knew that as long as I kept even a single thread tied to Thomas, I would never truly be free. I had to sever it completely. Predictably, the news traveled fast. Within hours, Thomas called Natalie’s phone. She put it on speaker, looking at me nervously. “Where is Ann? Put her on the phone!” Thomas’s voice was laced with suppressed fury. Natalie swallowed hard. “Mr. Montgomery, Ann is currently in a meeting.” “A meeting? What meeting could possibly be more important than this? You tell her that if she keeps up this childish tantrum, I’m going to pull all my investments. Her pathetic little agency won’t last a single week without my backing!” I reached over and took the phone from Natalie’s hand. “Mr. Montgomery, is there a problem?” There was a sudden, sharp silence on the line. “Ann,” he said, his voice dropping. “You finally decided to talk. What is this stunt? Are you trying to force my hand?” I let out a soft laugh. “You think too highly of yourself, Thomas. I’m simply clearing out the trash. I’ve never liked using secondhand items.” I ended the call before he could respond. Natalie stared at me, her mouth slightly open. “Ann, that was incredibly harsh.” I shrugged. “When dealing with a rabid dog, you have to be fiercer than they are.” The next two weeks were brutal. Losing our anchor client put the agency’s cash flow in jeopardy. Several prospective clients, having caught wind of our fallout with the Montgomery empire, backed out of negotiations at the last minute. The staff was anxious, and rumors of impending layoffs began to circulate. Natalie was practically pulling her hair out. “Ann, we’re sinking. Maybe you should just throw him a bone? Just a quick apology to smooth things over?” I kept my eyes on my laptop screen, editing a fresh pitch deck. “Natalie, take a look at this.” I spun the screen toward her. It was a deck for an emerging technology startup called Apex Tech. They had developed a groundbreaking consumer software, but they lacked the marketing clout to launch it successfully. Natalie frowned as she scanned the slides. “Apex Tech? I’ve heard of them. They’re basically working out of a garage. No capital, no corporate backing. Even if we pull off a miracle for them, we’ll barely cover our overhead.” I closed my laptop. “Sometimes, you have to look at the long game. I trust my gut on this one.” I personally led our team to meet with the founder of Apex Tech, Liam. He was a young, sharp engineer with clear-cut features and a quiet, intense focus. But the moment he started talking about his product, his eyes lit up with an infectious, brilliant passion. I respected that drive. We clicked instantly, mapping out a bold launch strategy over a single cup of coffee. To prove our commitment, I offered him an unprecedented deal. “We won’t charge you any upfront retainer fees. Instead, we’ll take a percentage of the sales revenue once the product launches.” Liam looked stunned. “Ann, are you running a charity?” I smiled. “I told you, I believe in this product. And I believe in you.” To celebrate the signed contract, Liam insisted on taking me to dinner at a quiet, cozy bistro downtown. Halfway through our main course, my phone vibrated with an unfamiliar number. I slid the bar to answer, and Mrs. Montgomery’s trembling voice came through the speaker. “Ann, you need to come to Saint Jude’s Hospital right now,” she gasped, her voice cracked with panic. “Thomas was in a terrible car accident.”
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