Chapter 3

The next morning, Julian didn't show.

He sent a long message instead.

Vivienne was showing signs of a threatened miscarriage. He couldn't leave.

He said he wouldn't sign the divorce papers. He told me to take some time to cool off.

I didn't reply. I called a lawyer and had the petition drafted.

What I didn't expect was that Julian would move first.

A week later, the company held its annual gala.

I was the lead designer at the regional office. Attendance wasn't optional.

The venue was in headquarters' city. The moment I walked into the ballroom, I felt it — eyes on me, and not the good kind.

Whispers everywhere.

"That's her. Three years of marriage and not one kid."

"I heard he's already got a second one on the way with someone else. And she's still hanging on, refusing to walk away."

"Shameless. If I were her, I'd have taken the money and left."

I swept a cold look across the room and walked to my seat.

Up on the stage, Julian stood in a tailored suit, delivering the year-end address.

His eyes found me through the crowd. There was a warning in them.

The awards segment started.

The Best Design of the Year award. My project. Three all-nighters to finish it.

The host's voice rang out with forced enthusiasm.

"And the award for Best Design of the Year goes to — Vivienne Vance!"

My head snapped up.

Vivienne walked to the stage in a couture gown, her stomach just beginning to show, accepting the applause with tears in her eyes.

She took the trophy and looked straight at Julian.

"I want to thank Mr. Harlow for his guidance. I wouldn't be standing here without him."

The room erupted.

I sat in my corner, shaking.

That project was mine from start to finish.

Vivienne couldn't operate CAD software.

Julian took the microphone. His gaze went directly to me.

"One more announcement before we close out the evening."

"Due to health reasons, designer Sienna Thorne will be taking an indefinite leave of absence."

"Vivienne Vance will step in as acting head of design at the regional office, effective immediately."

Every eye in the room landed on me.

Some pitying. Some laughing. Most just watching to see what I'd do.

This was how Julian intended to break me.

Strip away my work. gut my career. Humiliate me in front of everyone.

All to make sure I understood: without him, I was nothing.

I stood up. No hysteria. No running.

I walked to the front of the room and looked up at Julian on his stage.

"Stealing someone else's work does carry legal consequences."

Julian frowned. He dropped his voice.

"Stop making a scene. I'm giving Vivienne the credit as compensation. If you want money, I'll pay you double. Privately."

I looked at his face and felt sick.

"You're using my work to compensate your mistress?"

"Julian, you never stop surprising me."

Vivienne spoke up beside him, soft and wounded.

"Please don't blame him. I'm the one who wanted a chance to prove myself."

"I don't want the prize money. Every cent goes to you."

A murmur of approval rippled through the crowd.

"She's so gracious."

"Exactly. Three years, no kids, and she still has the nerve to act like this."

A sharp pain tore through my abdomen without warning.

Like a blade turning inside me.

I pressed my hand to my stomach. Cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

Julian assumed I was faking. He let out a short, contemptuous laugh.

"Don't recycle the same tricks, Sienna."

"Security. Please escort Ms. Thorne out."

Two large men closed in from either side and grabbed my arms.

The pain had taken everything out of me. I had nothing left to fight with. They half-dragged me out of the ballroom.

As the doors swung shut behind me, I heard Vivienne's voice float out, sweet and soft.

"Julian, the baby just kicked."