The money landed in Sharon's account with a silent, huge finality. She stared at the number on her screen, a sum was so big it didn't seem real, like a score in a video game.
It was more than enough to erase the lingering ghost of her mother's medical bills and the secret debt from Sasha. It was freedom, spelled out in bold numbers.
Sasha, of course, had declared a celebration. "This calls for champagne that costs more than my rent!" she yelled,
And so they found themselves that Friday night in a shimmering, loud nightclub where the music vibrated through the floor and the air smelled like pricey perfume and spilled drinks.
"To freedom!" Sasha shouted over the music, clinking her glass so hard against Sharon's that champagne spilled.
"To the most badass woman I know, who took that arrogant CEO for every penny he was worth!"
Sharon forced a smile, taking a large gulp.
The bubbles were sharp and cold, but they did nothing to cut through the strange numbness that had settled over her since she'd walked out of Kenzo's office.
She looked around at the dazzling light show, the beautiful people laughing and dancing without a care.
Wasn't this what she had worked for? Wasn't this supposed to be her freedom?
But the bright nightclub felt unreal, like a painting she was standing outside of. The champagne tasted like fizzy water.
Sasha's laughter, usually infectious, sounded shrill and far away. She was the center of the party, but she felt more alone than ever.
"You absolutely dodged a bullet, you know," Sasha said, leaning in close, her words slightly drunk.
"A huge problem named Ego. He let you walk away without a fight, Sharon. That proves he never really cared. He was just manipulating you the whole time."
The words were meant to be comforting, a reinforcement of their shared narrative. But now, they just felt like a record on repeat.
Sharon just nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She remembered the total lack of fight in his eyes during that final meeting.
He looked so calm and accepting. Was that really how a master manipulator looked? Or was it the look of a man who had simply given up?
The weekend became a blur of spending. They went to designer stores where Sasha happily held up dresses with prices that once would have shocked Sharon.
Sharon bought a few things, but the silk and cashmere felt strange against her skin. T
hey ate at restaurants where the food was arranged like art and the bill arrived on a discreet silver tray. They were living the life of luxury she had supposedly earned.
But with every passing day, the emptiness inside her grew.
The freedom she had craved now felt too big and without purpose, like a silent, empty room where she could only hear her own thoughts echoing.
Two weeks passed. Two weeks of silence.
She found herself checking her personal email constantly, her heart leaping every time her phone buzzed. She wasn't waiting for a job offer or a message from a friend.
She was waiting for a panicked call from Hayashi Tech. She wanted to hear his desperate, strained voice saying the system had crashed, that he needed her, and that only she could fix it.
But her phone remained stubbornly silent. No calls. No emails. She even found herself scrolling through the business section of the news, searching for any mention of a technical failure at Hayashi Tech.
There was nothing. Just glowing reports about the successful Nakamura partnership and the company's rising stock price.
He was fine. He was moving on perfectly. Her lifeline, that clever little bug she put in the system, had either failed to go off, or he had hired someone else to fix it.
That thought felt like a cold knife twisting in her stomach.
Restless, she opened her laptop and started browsing business investment sites. It was what a free, wealthy, independent woman should do, right? Plan her future.
But the listings for tech companies and investors all looked the same, seeming meaningless and boring.
Her heart wasn't in it. Her heart was still trapped in a forty-story glass tower across the city.
Her phone buzzed, and she snatched it up, a foolish hope flaring in her chest. It wasn't Kenzo. It was Leo Nakamura.
Nakamura: The offer is still on the table, Sharon. VP of Innovation. A seat at the big table. Let's not let a good opportunity go to waste. My office, tomorrow at 10?
This was her chance. It was a real plan for the future: a powerful job, a new enemy to focus on. A way to prove to herself, and to Kenzo, that she was truly over him.
She met him the next day. His office was as modern as Kenzo's, but it felt cold, like a display room, while Kenzo's office felt intensely organized. Nakamura was all smiles and smooth compliments.
"Sharon! So glad you came. You look… powerful," he said, his eyes appraising her.
"Hayashi's loss is my incredible gain. I'm not just offering you a job. I'm offering you a mission. Help me innovate. Help me stay ahead. Help me," he leaned forward, his smile turning sharp, "finally bury Hayashi Tech."
The words should have excited her. They should have filled her with a sense of purpose.
Instead, they felt like a betrayal. She saw the glint in his eye, the hunger not just for success, but for destruction. Kenzo's destruction.
She told him she needed to think about it.
That evening, she showed the contract to Sasha.
"Are you insane?" Sasha exclaimed, her eyes wide as she scanned the terms.
"This is unbelievable! Vice President! Look at this salary! You have to take it! This is everything we talked about! This is your chance to really stick it to Kenzo, to show him what he lost!"
Sasha's excitement was overwhelming, but for the first time, Sharon felt herself resisting it. "I know, it's just…"
"It's just what?" Sasha pressed, her tone becoming harsh.
"Don't tell me you're getting sentimental. He let you go, Sharon. He didn't fight for you, so he doesn't care. This isn't about him anymore. This is about you. Your future. Don't you dare let that man manipulate you from a distance."
Later, alone in her room, Sharon laid the thick, formal contract on her bed. The pen felt heavy in her hand. Sasha was right.
This was the logical, smart, powerful choice. It was everything she had supposedly wanted.
But as she stared at the blank signature line, all she could think was, If I sign this, it will finally get a reaction out of him. He'll have to see me. He'll have to acknowledge me.
Was that any way to make a life-changing decision?
Her hand trembled. The pen hung over the clean white paper, ready to change everything with one dark mark.