Chapter 1: The Silent Treatment

The office had gone unusually quiet the moment Molly Finch walked toward my desk.

She was wearing a cream-colored designer dress that probably cost more than my monthly rent. Her glossy hair rested perfectly on her shoulders, and the expensive perfume she wore lingered in the air long after she stopped beside me.

Without asking whether I was busy, she dropped a thick stack of documents onto my keyboard.

"Yara, Mr. Cromwell needs this proposal before noon," she said with a bright smile that never reached her eyes. "Sorry to bother you, but you'll have to finish it before you leave."

The papers nearly slid off my desk from the force.

I glanced at the clock.

It was already eleven.

The proposal wasn't mine.

It belonged to Molly.

She had been responsible for preparing it all week, yet somehow it had landed on my desk at the very last minute.

I looked up at her.

"Anything else?"

"Actually... yes." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as though asking me for another favor. "Mr. Cromwell and I have a client lunch after the meeting, so could you leave the finished proposal on his desk? Oh, and his office could use a little cleaning before you go."

She smiled sweetly.

"Thanks, Yara. You're the best."

Then she turned around and walked away, the sharp sound of her heels echoing confidently across the office.

No one said a word.

My coworkers quietly lowered their eyes to their computer screens, pretending they hadn't heard anything.

A few of them exchanged sympathetic glances.

Others simply sighed.

Everyone knew exactly what was happening.

Everyone also knew why.

Derrick Cromwell.

CEO of Wantrell Corporation.

My fiancé.

And apparently the only person in the company who couldn't see how obvious his favoritism had become.

Or perhaps...

He saw it perfectly.

He simply didn't care.

I picked up the proposal and flipped through its pages.

Half the financial analysis was incomplete.

Several charts were missing.

The executive summary hadn't even been written.

If I handed this to the client as it was, the meeting would become a disaster.

So, like always, I opened my laptop and started fixing everything.

As my fingers moved across the keyboard, memories I had spent weeks trying to ignore quietly resurfaced.

Two months earlier...

I had spent nearly eight weeks preparing Wantrell's largest investment proposal of the year.

Late nights.

Skipped weekends.

Countless revisions.

Every piece of research had been personally verified.

It was the project that could finally earn me the Strategy Director position I had worked toward for five years.

Then Derrick called an emergency management meeting.

"I've decided Molly will present the project instead," he announced.

Silence filled the conference room.

Even Molly looked surprised.

I slowly closed my notebook.

"May I ask why?"

Derrick leaned back in his chair.

"Molly deserves more exposure."

"She hasn't worked on this project."

"She'll learn."

I wasn't angry.

Not yet.

"Then perhaps the team should vote."

He agreed immediately, certain everyone would support his decision.

Instead...

Almost every department head voted for me.

Only one vote favored Molly.

Derrick's.

The atmosphere turned awkward.

His face darkened.

"Enough," he said coldly. "This isn't a democracy."

He removed me from the project anyway.

Then, to everyone's disbelief, he demoted me in front of the entire department for creating unnecessary conflict.

Several colleagues who had supported me had their performance bonuses reduced that same week.

Nobody complained afterward.

Fear spread through the office faster than any company memo.

That evening Derrick came to my apartment carrying flowers.

"I'm sorry," he had said while wrapping his arms around me. "If I always favor you, people will think I'm biased because you're my fiancée."

"Then why Molly?"

"She's insecure. I don't want her feeling left out."

Back then...

I believed him.

Now, remembering those words only made me smile bitterly.

The irony was almost amusing.

Apparently protecting another woman's feelings had become more important than respecting his future wife.

Around noon, footsteps echoed across the office.

Everyone instinctively straightened their posture.

Derrick had arrived.

He walked out of the executive elevator wearing a tailored navy suit.

Tall.

Handsome.

Confident.

Exactly the kind of man business magazines loved putting on their covers.

For a brief second, his eyes met mine.

There wasn't even a smile.

No greeting.

Nothing.

He simply continued walking toward his office.

The scent of cedarwood cologne lingered behind him.

I recognized it immediately.

He used to hate wearing cologne.

Last month Molly had gifted him that exact fragrance for his birthday.

Since then...

He wore it almost every day.

I lowered my eyes and continued typing.

Three days.

That was how long Derrick had been giving me the silent treatment.

His favorite punishment.

Whenever we argued, he refused to speak to me until I apologized first.

It had worked every single time.

I hated conflict.

I always gave in.

Sometimes after one day.

Sometimes after only a few hours.

He knew exactly how much I feared losing him.

Or rather...

He thought he did.

My phone vibrated beside the keyboard.

A message from Derrick.

"Come to my office after lunch."

No explanation.

No greeting.

No period at the end.

Just another order.

I locked the screen without replying.

An hour later I carried the completed proposal toward the executive floor.

His office door was slightly open.

Inside, laughter drifted into the hallway.

Molly was sitting comfortably across from Derrick's desk, feeding him pieces of sliced fruit from a crystal container.

"You work too hard," she laughed.

"Someone has to keep this company running," Derrick replied.

"Then I'll make sure you don't skip lunch anymore."

Neither of them noticed me standing outside.

Or maybe they did.

Maybe they simply didn't care.

I quietly placed the proposal on the secretary's desk instead of entering.

As I turned around, Molly's cheerful voice followed me.

"See? I told you she'd finish everything."

"Yara always does," Derrick answered casually.

"She's reliable."

Reliable.

Not talented.

Not brilliant.

Not the woman he planned to marry.

Just...

Reliable.

Something inside me finally became quiet.

Not broken.

Not angry.

Simply quiet.

I returned to my office and opened the folder hidden deep inside my computer.

Its filename was simple.

Resignation Letter.

The document had been sitting there for nearly two weeks.

Every night I opened it.

Every morning I closed it again.

Today...

For the first time...

I stopped hesitating.

I added one final sentence beneath my signature.

"Effective immediately."

Then I clicked Save.