Chapter 5

Harrison’s voice held zero patience, only icy judgment.

"She's framing me! Director, she engineered this entire narrative!" I pointed at the screen.

"This photo is completely out of context!"

"She was smearing my name in that room, and I was defending myself. I never threatened her!"

Harrison shook his head in deep disappointment.

"Even now, you're deflecting."

"We invested years into developing you, Ethan. You've deeply disappointed me."

"Effective immediately, Chloe Miller is taking full ownership of Project Phoenix."

"Hand over all your remaining accounts. The board has placed you on indefinite, unpaid suspension pending termination."

Indefinite suspension!

The words rang in my ears like a death sentence.

How was that any different from being fired?

In our tight-knit industry, getting slapped with a suspension for misconduct was a permanent stain. My career was effectively over.

"Director Harrison, you can't do this! This isn't fair!" I shot up from my chair.

"Fair?" Harrison sneered coldly. "The company's brand equity is the only thing that's fair. If you have an issue, hire a lawyer and sue us."

"Just remember, our corporate legal team doesn't lose. Now, clear out your desk."

I don't even remember how I walked out of his office.

I spent the afternoon handing off my life's work. Colleagues who used to laugh at my jokes now looked at me like I was toxic sludge.

I packed my personal belongings into a cardboard box and walked out of the skyscraper I had dedicated nearly a decade of my life to.

As I stepped onto the street holding that heavy box, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was a text from Frank's restaurant courier:

"Mr. Chase, the package has been dropped at your building's lobby desk. A black flash drive."

Adrenaline surged through my veins. My only lifeline.

I rushed to the front desk, signed for the envelope, and clutched that cold piece of metal in my palm.

This tiny piece of hardware was my only weapon to claw my way back from hell.

When I finally got back to my apartment building, two men were standing outside my door: my landlord and his hulking, heavy-set son.

The landlord scoffed the moment he saw me.

"Ethan, pack your shit. You're evicted. I'm breaking the lease."

I froze. "What? We have six months left on the lease, and my rent has never been late!"

"Why?" The landlord sneered.

"Your mother-in-law called me directly, ranting that you're a pervert and a predator!"

"She warned me you'd bring trouble to my property! I don't give a damn about your marital circus, but you're not trashing my property's value!"

"Here's your deposit and a buyout penalty. Take it and get out by tonight!"

He shoved an envelope of cash into my chest while his son took a menacing step forward, looming over me.

Career. Marriage. Home.

In seventy-two hours, I had lost every single thing I possessed.

I was backed all the way to the edge of the cliff, with an endless abyss at my heels.

I was kicked out of the home I had lived in for five years.

The landlord and his brute of a son watched me like wardens as I packed my life into two suitcases and a box.

By the time I stood on the curb dragging my luggage, dusk had fallen over the city.

The neon skyline flickered to life, yet not a single light was on for me.

I was homeless.

I checked into a cheap business hotel nearby, dumped my bags, and collapsed face-first onto the mattress.

Staring at the popcorn ceiling, my mind went completely numb.

Did I really do something wrong? If I had just stayed quiet and let Vance molest her, would my life still be intact?

Sometime later, my phone vibrated. It was Mark.

He was the team's veteran rep—cynical, connected, but decent at heart.

"Hey, Ethan. You holding up?" His voice carried genuine sympathy.

"Barely breathing," I croaked, my throat raw.