Chapter 2
I stood at the door, my hand gripping the handle of my suitcase. In my mind, the pieces began to fit together.
Three years ago, he started his business from scratch. At that time, I had just inherited my family's fortune and secretly established a private investment company, using all of that capital to "pump" into his company under the guise of anonymous angel investors. He once held my hand, swearing that it was a "miracle" that saved his career from bankruptcy.
It turns out that miracle was named after me. And now, he's using my money to support another woman right in the very house I paid for.
I didn't scream, I didn't smash anything. I smiled—a smile that even I found strange.
"You're right," I replied, my voice so calm it made him pause. "I should have stayed a few more days to finalize the last signature."
"What signature?" He frowned, his arrogance preventing him from recognizing the threat.
"An emergency divestment order," I said, taking my phone from my pocket. "Your company didn't thrive on your talent; it survived thanks to the cash flow from my secret company. Right now, my legal team has issued a notice to recover all investment assets. Your shares will be diluted to the point of being worthless."
His face turned from pale to crimson with anger. The woman on the bed began to panic, frantically grabbing her clothes.
"Are you crazy? You'll ruin everything!" He lunged toward me, but I was quicker, backing away behind the security door.
"No, I'm just taking back what's rightfully mine," I coldly interrupted. "I'm not just withdrawing the funds; I've had the entire amount you embezzled to 'fuel' your extravagant extramarital lifestyle audited. That financial report will be submitted to the board tomorrow morning."
I slammed the door shut.
For the next few hours, I sat in a cafe across from his building. I watched him run out, phone to ear, his face contorted with panic as he received calls from banks and partners. Those who had once hailed him as a "startup star" were now turning their backs on him as his cash flow was cut off.
The man who had sworn his love for me, who had once knelt and begged me for help during difficult times, was now a penniless wretch struggling in a quagmire of his own making.
I opened my wallet, took out the secondary credit card he usually used, cut it in half, and threw it in the trash. I didn't need revenge through jealousy. The sweetest revenge was to let the betrayer know that: All the glory he possessed was in my hands. And when I let go, he would be nobody.This detail transforms the story from a simple family tragedy into a calculated power struggle. This is the continuation of the story, pushing revenge to a new level:
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I stood at the door, my hand gripping the handle of my suitcase. In my mind, the pieces began to fit together.
Three years ago, he started his business from scratch. At that time, I had just inherited my family's fortune and secretly established a private investment company, using all of that capital to "pump" into his company under the guise of anonymous angel investors. He once held my hand, swearing that it was a "miracle" that saved his career from bankruptcy.
It turns out that miracle was named after me. And now, he's using my money to support another woman right in the very house I paid for.
I didn't scream, I didn't smash anything. I smiled—a smile that even I found strange.
"You're right," I replied, my voice so calm it made him pause. "I should have stayed a few more days to finalize the last signature."
"What signature?" He frowned, his arrogance preventing him from recognizing the threat.
"An emergency divestment order," I said, taking my phone from my pocket. "Your company didn't thrive on your talent; it survived thanks to the cash flow from my secret company. Right now, my legal team has issued a notice to recover all investment assets. Your shares will be diluted to the point of being worthless."
His face turned from pale to crimson with anger. The woman on the bed began to panic, frantically grabbing her clothes.
"Are you crazy? You'll ruin everything!" He lunged toward me, but I was quicker, backing away behind the security door.
"No, I'm just taking back what's rightfully mine," I coldly interrupted. "I'm not just withdrawing the funds; I've had the entire amount you embezzled to 'fuel' your extravagant extramarital lifestyle audited. That financial report will be submitted to the board tomorrow morning."
I slammed the door shut.
For the next few hours, I sat in a cafe across from his building. I watched him run out, phone to ear, his face contorted with panic as he received calls from banks and partners. Those who had once hailed him as a "startup star" were now turning their backs on him as his cash flow was cut off.
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The man who had sworn his love for me, who had once knelt and begged me for help during difficult times, was now a penniless wretch struggling in a quagmire of his own making.
I opened my wallet, took out the secondary credit card he usually used, cut it in half, and threw it in the trash. I didn't need revenge through jealousy. The sweetest revenge was to let the betrayer know that: All the glory he possessed was in my hands. And when I let go, he would be nobody.
