Chapter 77
Chapter 1
On the third day of our cold war, my fiancé deliberately agreed to his assistant’s suggestion of a self-drive
road trip.
He thought I would react the same way I always did, jealous and hysterical. Instead, when he came back a
month later, he realized I had changed.
He helped his assistant snatch my project, and I didn’t quit in a rage. I ran errands for her, stayed late, and
even helped her draft proposals.
He ruined the design I had poured months into so she could secure her year-end bonus. I didn’t argue or try to prove myself. I took the blame, accepted the punishment, and swallowed every accusation.
When he decided to promote her straight to general manager, I didn’t get angry either. I calmly handed over
all
my
shares and let him redistribute them however he pleased.
The assistant was thrilled.
“You see? I told you,” she said smugly. “You can’t confront someone like Eleanor head-on. You have to ice her out. Emotional distancing works every time. You leaving for a few days scared her, she’s afraid of losing you, that’s why she’s behaving now p>
My fiancé believed every word. He praised her for being clever, then later sought me out alone, promising me a raise, a promotion, and, unprecedentedly, a grand, unforgettable wedding.
What he seemed to have forgotten was this: during that trip, he had already signed my resignation approval.
And I had already broken up with him.
From that moment on, it was a clean cut. No ties. No entanglement.
“Eleanor, Mr. Reed needs this proposal urgently. I’ll have to trouble you to finish it before you leave tonight p>
Madeline Foster smiled sweetly as she dropped a thick stack of files onto my desk.
I accepted them out of habit. “Okay p>
She didn’t seem satisfied yet. “Later tonight, Mr. Reed and I have a dinner engagement. Once you’re done, just leave it on his desk. Oh, and don’t forget to tidy up his office before you go p>
With that, she turned and left, heels clicking lightly, clearly in a great mood.
My coworkers looked at me with sympathy, unsure how to comfort me.
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Everyone in the company knew that CEO Charles Reed was my fiancé, and that he showed blatant favoritism
toward his assistant, Madeline Foster.
He had poached her from another firm, fast-tracked her straight into a project director role, and even handed
her a multi-million-dollar project I had spent a month securing and another month grinding through nights to
complete.
I refused to accept it. Charles called for a public vote to decide who would get the project.
He thought the team would back him. Instead, every single vote went to me.
Madeline received only one vote-his.
Charles flew into a rage, accusing me of forming cliques within the company. He not only refused to return the project to me, but publicly stripped me of my position and docked the pay of every colleague who had
supported me.
No one dared to speak up.
Afterward, he apologized, claiming he only did it to “avoid suspicion,” worried Madeline would be ostracized.
At first, I believed him. Now, I found it laughable.
Madeline’s professional competence was worse than that of our newest interns. Whether this was about avoiding suspicion or simple favoritism was obvious to everyone, except him.
There was movement upstairs. I looked up to see Charles’ tall figure appear at the stairwell.
He swept his gaze across the office once, then left without a word. He had changed into a casual suit, and even from here, I could catch the faint scent of cedar on him.
Charles never wore cologne. That one was a gift from Madeline.
I knew he was doing it on purpose. He always was.
It started when I discovered chat logs of him and Madeline exchanging “good night” messages. I questioned him, just once or twice.
He called me petty. In a fit of anger, he moved her to work directly under him, saying, “If you’re going to suspect me anyway, I might as well make it real p>
The angrier I got, the more openly he favored her. He brought her to social events, to dinners, even fed her food and wiped her mouth during company gatherings.
When I argued, he went silent. When I apologized, he rallied his friends to lecture me about being
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unreasonable.
I used to reflect endlessly, wondering if I wasn’t broad-minded enough, if that was why things had come to
this.
But on the third day of our cold war, when I was so sick I couldn’t even sit up in bed and he ignored me completely, packing his bags and taking her on a trip instead, I finally gave up.
I realized he was using “desensitizing me” as an excuse to legitimize his own moral failures.
Even if I had never seen those chat records, he would have found another reason to be with her.
After one of their recent business trips, although they still went to dinners, drinks, and games like before, I
could sense that something between them had shifted.
Thankfully, I no longer cared.
Five years of love had come to an end.
This farce deserved its curtain call.
After finishing the proposal, I was the last one left in the office. I opened my phone and saw that Madeline had posted several photos in a row.
The background was a private fine-dining bistro. Candlelight flickered between them as Charles elegantly cut
her steak.
Caption: [Steak cut by the CEO himself. It has to taste extra good p>
The comments were full of business partners calling them sweet. People unaware of our relationship asked when they could attend their wedding.
Charles replied with three dots. Madeline added a playful emoji.
As always, no clarification.
In the past, I would get upset over their ambiguous relationship, call Charles, and end up being scolded- accused of falling apart over something someone else had said.
This time, I didn’t.
I sent him a brief message telling him the proposal was done, placed the files in his office, changed the water as instructed, and drove home.
As soon as I arrived, my phone rang.
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“Eleanor, it’s Madeline. Thanks for your hard work on the project. I’ll treat you to dinner sometime p>
Before I could respond, Charles’ voice came through. “What’s there to thank her for? That’s her job p>
“Mr. Reed, she’s your fiancée. You could sound nicer,” Madeline chided softly.
They sounded like the real couple.
I let out a quiet laugh.
Charles, who guarded his phone so fiercely that even glancing at the time on it would earn me accusations Charles, who guarded his phone so fiercely that even
of invading his privacy, now handed it to her without a thought.
The closeness was obvious.
Strangely, my heart was calm.
Things that once felt earth-shattering now seemed trivial.
After chatting with Madeline for a bit, he finally remembered I was still on the line. “I’ll be home late. Don’t
wait up p>
Then he hung up.
“Late” always meant four or five hours. I used to sit restlessly, waiting.
This time, I didn’t care. I went straight to the study.
I checked the calendar.
While he and Madeline were “on a business trip,” I had submitted my resignation. Just as expected, with his attention fully on her, he approved it without even reading.
Three days remained.
Once the handover was complete, I would be gone for good.
After a moment’s thought, I called my former research advisor overseas.
I had entered the institute straight after graduation as a top candidate with excellent benefits.
When Charles said he wanted to start a company and needed support, I quit without hesitation.
Even though my mentor kept urging me not to, I chose to go back home and stand by him while he started his business from scratch.
Looking back, I’d been foolish.
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Feelings were fleeting. Only effort never betrayed you.
After I explained, I expected a scolding. Instead, my advisor sighed and said he had known about my
situation for a long time and had always hoped I would return.
“But have you really made up your mind this time?” he asked.
I nodded. “Everything’s settled. I’ve resigned p>
“Resigned? What resignation p>
The exclamation came from behind me.
I turned to see Charles standing in the doorway.
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