Chapter 5

Selena's POV

"It wasn't enough to bully Pearl at home, Selena? Now you're bringing your venom into the office?" Harrison slammed his phone onto the coffee table, his voice sharp and furious. "She only wanted to learn. Who gave you the right to talk to her like that?"

Looking at the fabricated text, the sheer absurdity of it struck me.

After leaving his office this afternoon, I hadn't stepped away from my desk once; I had spent the entire time refining the presentation slides. I hadn't exchanged a single word with Pearl.

"I didn't say that to her," I said, meeting his gaze directly. "I was at my workstation all afternoon. You can pull the security footage."

"Security footage? Are you saying Pearl is lying?" Harrison let out a cold, mocking laugh, utterly blinded by his bias. "She's an innocent girl who just got back to civilization! If you hadn't said something atrocious, why would she be sobbing her heart out? You are an absolute disappointment, Selena. Do you honestly think this project can't run without you?"

My heart turned entirely cold, stone by stone. Staring at Harrison, I realized our eight years together had been nothing more than a pathetic joke. He didn't love me; he didn't even have the decency to afford me basic respect or trust.

"Since you feel so wronged, and you think Pearl is stealing your spotlight," Harrison said, rising to look down at me coldly, "you're off the South District project. Hand over all your files to Pearl immediately. She will be delivering the keynote presentation tomorrow morning."

"Harrison Hayes!" A rare crack of emotion slipped into my voice. "I worked on this for six months! The data models are massive. Pearl won't understand a single slide! Are you seriously gambling a multi-billion-dollar investment just to indulge her?!"

"It's the compensation she deserves," he replied, cold and unyielding. "Consider it the price for humiliating her today. My decision is final. Don't say another word."

Grabbing his laptop, he turned and went upstairs, leaving me standing alone in the cavernous, empty living room.

The following morning, the South District project presentation took place.

The boardroom was packed with executive board members and primary investors. Pearl stood at the podium wearing an ill-fitting pink designer suit, holding the very presentation script I had spent sleepless nights preparing.

She didn't need to understand the logic; she just had to recite the data like lines from a memorized script.

With Harrison sitting right there backing her, it didn't matter that her delivery was shaky, or that she mispronounced half the technical terminology. When she finished, thunderous applause erupted across the room.

To curry favor with Harrison, the executives tripped over themselves to shower praise on the newly returned Vance heiress, calling her "brilliant" and a "natural business prodigy."

Harrison sat at the head of the table, smiling and nodding at Pearl on stage, his eyes filled with encouragement and pride.

Meanwhile, back in the dimmest corner of the gallery, I sat silently. I watched my months of labor displayed on the screen. I watched Pearl take credit for everything I had built. And I looked at the man I had loved for eight years—the man who had personally pushed me off the cliff.

A faint, fleeting smile touched the corner of my lips.

No anger. No lingering resentment. Only the profound relief of total detachment.

Eleven days left until I was gone.

*Harrison, these six months of work, along with eight years of my youth—I'll gladly throw them away like trash and leave them to you.*