Chapter 1

"Thank you to my forever mentor for this amazing early birthday gift! I’ll work hard to be worthy of this beast!"

My heart sank.

I instantly remembered the blurry bank transfer screenshot Austin had shown me last week when I demanded our money back.

I quickly opened my online banking app and scrutinized the transaction history for that supposedly "refunded" $25,000.

The next second, the mouse slipped from my trembling hand.

It wasn't a refund at all.

It was a short-term personal loan from one of Austin's distant cousins.

The memo line clearly read: "Temporary loan. Repay next month."

In that instant, I knew. The last shred of trust between us, along with our shared startup dream, was dead.

Disappointment washed over me, drowning out my anger.

I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just picked up my phone and sent Austin a text:

"Austin, I'm out. Let's dissolve the studio. The startup is over."

Almost the exact second the message marked as "read," my phone rang.

I picked up, but it wasn't Austin’s voice. It was Bella’s—sweet, high-pitched, and laced with fake innocence.

"Chloe, babe, what is wrong with you? Just because the funding is a few days late, you're throwing a tantrum and pulling out? Startups are hard. Giving up at the first sign of trouble doesn't sound like the Chloe I know. Austin has been pulling all-nighters for this project. You're breaking his heart."

In the background, I could hear the rowdy voices of their college crew.

"Yeah, Chloe, show some startup spirit!"

"Bella’s right. Austin is working his ass off. Give him a break."

These people had been Austin and Bella’s loyal squad since college.

They always stood in a united front. Every time Austin and I argued because Bella "borrowed" our project funds for her personal emergencies, they would jump in. They’d preach about "the bigger picture," "brotherhood," and how "Bella has had a hard life" to guilt-trip me. Or rather, to silence me.

Bella always played the martyr, acting like she was sacrificing everything for the team. She had implied more than once in public that I was petty and lacked vision.

She had even whispered to me in private, "Chloe, if you think the risk is too high, you can always back out. Austin and I can handle it."

This time, I wasn't even mad. I was just exhausted.

I spoke into the receiver, my voice deadpan:

"Yeah, you guys are right. So, I’m backing out. Wish you both the best of luck with the project."

The other end of the line went dead silent.

I didn't wait for a response. I hung up.

Then, I opened my laptop and began organizing all the files, design drafts, and business proposals related to the project.

These represented countless sleepless nights of my hard work. But now, they meant nothing to me.

Less than an hour later, Austin slammed the door open. He was supposed to be pitching to clients, but he had rushed back to our shared apartment.

He held two tickets in his hand, trying to coax me with that familiar puppy-dog look:

"Chloe, look! I pulled some wires and got VIP passes to TechCrunch Disrupt! Let's go this weekend and clear our heads, okay?"

I looked at the tickets and felt a wave of sheer mockery.

I had been begging to go to this event for months. But back then, he told me we were too busy with the launch and should wait until things stabilized. Now, he was using it as a peace offering.

But here was the kicker: Bella had already posted her staff badge for the exact same event on her Instagram last week. Her caption read: "Austin is the best! Sneak peek before the public crowd!"

He always did this. Using the exact same favor to keep both of us happy.

I didn't take the tickets. I just smiled.

Austin let out a sigh of relief, thinking I was appeased, and turned around to pour some water.

"Let's break up, Austin. For good."

The glass mug slipped from his hand, shattering loudly against the hardwood floor.

"Over $25,000? Just because the funds were delayed by a couple of days? Chloe, does our relationship and our dream mean absolutely nothing to you?"

He sounded genuinely hurt, like he was the victim here.

If this were the past, I would have argued with him line by line.

But now? I didn't want to waste a single breath.

When words lose their meaning, action is the only way out.

I bent down to pick up the broken glass. Austin reacted emotionally, grabbing my arm to stop me. I instinctively yanked my arm back, and my elbow hit the console table. A custom ceramic vase we bought when we first moved in wobbled, fell, and smashed into pieces.