Chapter 8 - THE PRICE OF BETRAYAL
Three months later, spring had begun to bloom across Chicago. The ice melted from the shores of Lake Michigan, making way for clear skies and warm sunshine.
Inside the glass-walled executive suite on the top floor of Mercer International’s flagship tower, I stood looking out over the city skyline. I was wearing a tailored ivory suit, my hair styled impeccably, fully immersed in my role as CEO of Mercer Logistics. Under my leadership, the company had not only recovered the lost government contracts but had expanded into European markets, posting record-breaking quarterly profits.
A soft knock came at my office door. My executive assistant, Sarah, stepped inside.
“Miss Mercer,” Sarah said respectfully. “The legal team has finalized the liquidation of Dominic Vale’s remaining personal assets. The final divorce decree has also been signed by the judge. You are officially legally separated.”
“Thank you, Sarah,” I said, taking the formal divorce decree from her hands. Signing my final signature felt like completing a long-overdue chapter of my life.
“Also...” Sarah hesitated slightly. “Mr. Vale is downstairs in the lobby. He’s been standing outside the security gates for three hours, begging for a two-minute meeting with you. Security offered to remove him, but we wanted to check with you first.”
I pondered the request for a moment. “I’ll see him.”
Five minutes later, Dominic was escorted into my sprawling office by two security guards.
If I hadn't known who he was, I would never have recognized him. The sharp, arrogant billionaire who used to command rooms in tailored suits was completely gone. In his place stood a hollow, gaunt man wearing a faded, cheap suit. His eyes were sunken with dark circles, his hair was graying at the temples, and his hands trembled slightly at his sides.
He looked around the magnificent office—an office far grander than anything he had ever owned—and then looked at me.
“Evelyn...” he whispered, his voice dry and hoarse.
“Mr. Vale,” I said calmly from behind my massive mahogany desk. “You have two minutes.”
Dominic took a hesitant step forward, keeping his hands clasped together like a penitent schoolboy. “I... I just wanted to deliver the signed divorce papers personally. And... I wanted to say I’m sorry. Truly, deeply sorry.”
“Apology accepted, Dominic,” I said evenly. “Is there anything else?”
Dominic swallowed hard, tears welling in his dull eyes. “I lost everything, Evelyn. The banks took my car, my private accounts, my reputation. I’m living in a small, one-bedroom apartment in South Chicago. No firm will hire me—not even as a junior consultant. My name is toxic in the industry.”
“Actions have consequences, Dominic,” I replied coolly. “You chose ambition over loyalty, and deceit over respect.”
“I know,” he sobbed, covering his face with his trembling hands. “Every single night, I lay awake in that tiny room, thinking about the bedroom in our penthouse. I think about the moment I told you to leave. It was the biggest mistake of my entire life. I had a queen by my side, and I threw her away for garbage.”
He looked up at me with desperate, hollow eyes. “Vanessa left me the day after the gala. She stole twenty thousand dollars from our private PR fund before she fled to Los Angeles. She was using me all along.”
“Vanessa was simply a mirror reflecting your own vanity, Dominic,” I said, picking up a pen. “You used people, and in turn, she used you.”
Dominic fell to his knees in front of my desk—a broken man begging for breadcrumbs of mercy. “Please, Evelyn... just give me a entry-level job in your logistics department. Anything. A clerk, a manager... I just want a chance to survive.”
I looked down at him without malice, but without pity either. Just total, unshakeable neutrality.
May you like
“Mercer International hires based on character and integrity, Dominic,” I said softly. “And unfortunately, you don't possess the qualifications.”
I pressed the button on my intercom. “Security, please escort Mr. Vale out of the building.”
