"Yes! Anna is pregnant! We're together! So what?" His voice cracked with defiance. "Joanna, we aren't married yet—I have the right to make my own choices!"
"The right to choose?"
The dam broke.
Tears spilled over, hot and fast, scalding tracks down my cheeks.
"So your choice is to use my money to build your empire while planning a future with another woman and plotting how to kick me out?"
"Your money?" The words struck a nerve. His face twisted with ugly resentment. "Right. I know! I know the company's biggest angel investment might be related to you! I suspected it ages ago! But I didn't think it was actually *you*!"
"You hid it so well, Joanna. What do you take me for? A charity case? A pathetic worm you feed in secret just to test its loyalty?"
So he really did know.
The admission carried the biting sting of a man whose ego had been gutted by help he deemed beneath him.
"So this is your revenge?" A laugh clawed its way out of my throat—miserable, hollow. "Betrayal and scheming... that's your payback for my 'concealment' and 'charity'?"
"Think whatever you want!" He raked his hands through his hair. "Anna and her uncle can give me the resources I need right now! What can you give me? Nothing but that money I've already burned through, and endless logistical chores!"
He glared at me. "Once the financing comes in, I'll pay you back. Name your price."
Every word was a poison-tipped dagger, plunging into the softest part of my heart.
In his eyes, my years of sacrifice were worthless. He had long since weighed the pros and cons, and I was simply the option to be discarded.
"Jonathan." My voice dropped to absolute zero. "We're done."
He froze.
His phone rang again. The timing was cruel.
He glanced at the screen and answered immediately, his voice dripping with concern. "Anna? What is it? Okay, I'm coming."
He hung up and looked at me, torn.
"Anna isn't feeling well. I have to take her to the hospital. Joanna, let's talk about us tomorrow, alright?"
I didn't answer.
He hesitated, then grabbed his coat and hurried for the door. On the threshold, he glanced back.
"Go home early."
The door clicked shut, swallowing the sound of his footsteps.
I slid down the wall, hugging my knees, and wept in silence.
Time dissolved into nothing.
When I finally stood, my legs were numb. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and walked to my office on autopilot.
The safe in the corner held everything.
At the very bottom lay the originals of three documents: the nominee shareholding agreement, the $150 million transfer voucher, and the letter my mother wrote before she passed.
The paper had yellowed, but her elegant handwriting remained sharp:
*Joanna, my biggest regret was letting my partner know my trump card. You must remember: a trump card is only revealed when it will deal the most damage. Strike only when it will be fatal.*
I pressed the letter to my chest and closed my eyes.
*Mom, I'm in so much pain.*
*Painful enough to finally play my hand.*
