Eleanor's POV
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as I stepped into my small, glass-walled office. Monday morning. I set my bag down, smoothing my blouse, a nervous habit, before booting up my computer.
Just focus on work. Ignore everything else.
But my phone chimed before I could even open my email. The office group chat. Dozens of notifications piled up, a flood of mocking emojis and—
My stomach dropped.
A video of me Drenched and humiliated at the party, frozen mid-panic under the spotlight. The caption: "Look who's jealous!"
Messages exploded beneath it:
"Pathetic."
"She totally faked that 'accident' to get attention."
"No way she earned that manager title."
My fingers clenched around the phone. I shouldn't have come in today.
But rent was due. Mira's loan loomed in the back of my mind. Althought she never pressured me for it.
She's only nice because she feels sorry for you.
A sharp knock at my office door made me jump. I swiped hastily at my eyes before calling out, "Come in."
One of the junior co workers poked his head in, avoiding my gaze. "Mr. Dickson asked for you."
My stomach twisted. Just hearing his name made my pulse stumble. I nodded quickly and stood, smoothing down my blouse with hands that didn't want to stop trembling, and followed him.
He didn't say much, he just pointed toward the long balcony that stretched along the side of the building. Mr. Dickson was there, leaning on the rail with his phone pressed to his ear, deep in a conversation. His back was to me.
I took a deep breath.
Don't make a fool of yourself.
My shoes clicked softly on the tiles as I walked over. He didn't glance at me. Just kept talking on his phone, like I wasn't even there.
So I waited.
Minutes ticked by.
My heart thudded harder with every second. I stood still, like a child waiting outside a principal's office. Ten minutes. Maybe more. My face was burning and I couldn't tell if it was the sun or shame.
The wind tugged at my hair as I counted the seconds, my fingers knotting together behind my back. Finally, his laughter cut off, and he ended the call.
"Why… why did you call me?" I asked, keeping my voice steady even though it came out a little smaller than I meant.
He blinked, almost like he was surprised I spoke. Then scoffed. "What kind of question is that?" His gaze narrowed. "Didn't you see the message I sent you over the weekend?"
My heart sank. I had. I just… hadn't replied. I didn't know how to. It hadn't sounded like something that needed a reply, not really.
He sighed, and the sharp edge in his voice softened suddenly. "Forget it."
strangely, his tone went from dismissive to welcoming.
"Well, now you've got my attention. Just like you wanted, right?" He smiled, lifted a hand, and stretched his arms wide as if offering an embrace. "I'll still give you the opportunity to hug me and all that."
"What do you mean by that?" My voice barely rose above the wind.
Dickson smirked. "Come on, Eleanor. You miss me."
A cold laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "You cheated on me, and broke up with me. You left me for my sister. You humiliated me in front of everyone at the company's party. And now you think I'd be happy to hug you?"
"Exactly." He shrugged, as if this were obvious. "You just need to see it from my perspective."
"Enlighten me." My nails dug into my palms.
He leaned against the railing, the city sprawling behind him like a prize. "Your sister's the heir. Not you. I'm securing our future. When her family's money is mine, I can take you anywhere you've ever wanted. Spoiled vacations, designer clothes..."
The words hit like shrapnel. "So you left me... for money?"
His smile didn't waver. "For us."
I stared at him, my chest hollow. All this time, I thought he might apologize. That he'd finally see the pain he caused.
"I thought you wanted to apologize."
"Why would I apologize?" He laughed, sharp and mocking. "What did I even do wrong? You're the selfish one, only thinking about yourself. No wonder Priscilla's better." He patted my shoulder like I was a misbehaving child. "But I accept your apology for that little stunt at the party. Now, I need you to do something for me."
"What?" The word tasted like ash.
He pulled out his phone, flashing a document. "Sign this."
"No." I stepped back. "I won't sign something I haven't read."
"It just says all those ideas you gave to me and ideas you will get in the future officially belong to me now."
I blinked slowly, the heat rising behind my eyes, but I wouldn't let it spill. Not in front of him.
"What makes you think I will agree to this?" I asked, my voice thin, but steady. It didn't match the hurricane tearing through my insides.
Dickson smiled like he'd been expecting the question. Like I was just playing hard to get.
"Because I know you love me," he said with maddening confidence. "You always have. You always will. You'd do anything for me."
I hated how easily the words slipped from his mouth. I hated more how true they still were.
Did I still love him?
Yes. Pathetically, yes.
But this made everything clearer. He didn't see me as a person. He saw me as someone stupid. Someone to use.
"I'm not doing that," I said quietly, staring at the floor between us. "In fact… I want you to admit to the higher-ups that those ideas you've been pitching as yours,every single one of them,are mine. I want credit. I want my name on them."
"When did you learn to talk back?" he said, shaking his head. "It doesn't suit you, Eleanor."
I stood my ground. My hands were shaking, but I kept them at my sides. If I clenched my fists, he'd see just how much I was falling apart.
"Do you honestly think anyone would believe you over me?" he added, as if it were a joke. "Come on. They'll think you're confused. Maybe even unwell."
I bit the inside of my cheek.
"I'm securing our future," he continued, lowering his voice. "Why can't you see that? I had to be with Priscilla, for now. Her money opens doors. But it's always been you, Ellie. You're the one I come back to. You're the one I trust. All this... it's for us."
I couldn't believe I didn't see this back then.
Or maybe I did. Maybe deep down, I always knew who he was. But I stayed anyway. I stayed and smiled and made excuses for him. Because love meant compromise, right? It meant accepting someone's flaws, even when they chipped away at your worth. That's what I thought. That's what I always let myself believe.
But this?
This wasn't compromise. This was cruelty wearing perfume and calling itself devotion.
"I'm not signing anything," I said, the weight of every quiet betrayal finally pushing the words out. "We're done here."
I turned to walk away.
His hand clamped around my wrist, yanking me back with enough force to make me stumble. I gasped, my shoulder twisting painfully as he held on.
"Eleanor," he hissed, "I'm doing this for your own good."
He shoved the phone toward me, the document glowing bright against the screen. Before I could react, he grabbed my hand, trying to force my thumb onto the scanner.
"No—stop—" I struggled, jerking against his grip, heart pounding in my ears.
"Why are you doing this?" he growled. "If you don't sign this, I will make your life miserable. Not just here, everywhere. No peace. Why do you want to break the heart of someone you love?"
"Let me go!" I cried, twisting, but his fingers dug deeper into my skin.
I fought harder, the panic rising now, rising fast.
"Don't be stupid, Eleanor! Just do this for us! You owe me that!"
He tried again, gripping my thumb, forcing it down.
"Please—Dickson—let me go—!"
And then—
A voice.
A low, commanding voice that cut through the chaos like thunder slicing through a storm.
"What's going on here?"
And suddenly i saw my self crashing to the ground.