He booked a private room at an upscale club.
Only the two of us.
Gone was the polished calm he had worn during the day. He poured tea for me himself, his posture lowered almost to the floor.
“Maya,” he said, voice tight, “for old times’ sake, give us one more chance. Reed & Co. is my life’s work.”
I lifted the teacup but did not drink.
Steam blurred his anxious face.
He leaned closer.
“If you just say yes, the conditions are yours to name. Come back to the company. I can make you deputy general manager. Or if there’s something Warren Group needs, tell me. I’ll cooperate fully.”
Before I could answer, the private room door flew open.
Claire rushed in, eyes red, finger already stabbing in my direction.
“Maya Shaw, do you have no shame at all?” she shouted. “You already left the company and you’re still trying to seduce my man?”
The blood drained from Evan’s face so fast it was almost frightening.
I set down my teacup and looked at him.
“Mr. Reed,” I said, “there’s an old saying. If you want to govern the world, you should first put your own house in order.”
My gaze slid past him to Claire, who was standing there crying beautifully and ruining everything.
“I think,” I said softly, “you should focus on getting your home life under control before trying to discuss business.”
His face turned gray.
He stood frozen, like a man watching the floor vanish under him.
I rose to leave.
At the door, I paused and added one more sentence.
“Oh, and Mr. Reed? You still haven’t paid my severance.”
I had not even reached the elevator when the bank notification came through.
The amount was not excessive.
Not a dollar more than what I was legally owed.
He was fast when fear was involved.
That saved me the trouble of arbitration.
Back at Warren Group, I submitted the final evaluation report to Victor.
His reply came almost at once.
Accurate.
That was all.
But I knew what it meant.
The official termination letter to Reed & Co. was only a matter of time.
The next few days were quiet.
Then the formal termination notice went out.
Then, almost immediately after, several other companies in the industry heard through the grapevine that Warren Group had concerns about Reed & Co.’s internal governance.
Their already fragile capital chain snapped.
Evan called me like a man drowning.
By the time I picked up, he was already shouting.
“Maya, was this you? Are you trying to drive me to death?”
His voice was raw, almost animal.
I listened until he ran out of air.
Then I answered, very calmly.
“Evan, I never pushed you to the edge.”
The line went silent.
“You did that yourself. With your indulgence. With your incompetence. And with Claire’s worthless little version of love.”
I could hear him inhale sharply.
“Remember what I said at my apartment that morning?” I asked. “I said your girlfriend’s concern came at a very high cost.”
Then I hung up.
And dragged his number into the blacklist where it belonged.
I thought that would be the end.
It was not.
The next attack came uglier.
And far more personal.
At first, it was whispers in the break room.
I went to make coffee and heard my name mixed with words like slept her way up and corporate spy.
When they saw me, the conversation died instantly.
That afternoon, an intern I got along with came to my desk, hesitant and pale.
“Maya,” she whispered, holding out her phone, “is someone trying to smear you?”
On the screen was an article from an industry gossip account.
The headline was glaring and filthy.
The Beautiful Director Air-Dropped into Warren Group: Great at Business or Great in Bed?
The photos had been chosen with surgical malice.
One was from a business dinner where Victor had lifted an arm to block a drink being pushed toward me. In the frame, it looked like he was holding me.
Another was taken in the underground garage while I was leaning toward him to report on work through a half-open car window. The angle made it look like I was kissing him.
The worst part was the bank transfer screenshot.
The severance Evan had paid me.
The amount was clear. The date was clear. And the caption beneath it read:
Took the money, betrayed both sides, and cashed out after destroying her former employer.
The story was seamless.
Elegant, even.
It claimed I had been involved with Victor long before leaving Reed & Co., that I had acted as a commercial spy inside Evan’s company, and that I walked away with money after helping ruin my old boss.
I handed the phone back to the intern and thanked her.
My expression stayed calm.
Inside, something hard and cold settled into place.
There was no way this came from anyone but Claire.
She did not just want me gone.
She wanted me unclean.
Unemployable.
Unforgivable.
I stood up and walked straight to Victor’s office.