Chapter 2

The same words, the same scene.

Back then, I had cried and screamed like a madwoman, swearing the contract wasn't lost by me, that it was Lily who had taken it upon herself to make copies and then it disappeared.

I begged Richard to check the security footage.

The cameras were "conveniently" broken.

I grabbed Ethan's hand and begged him to believe me.

He yanked his hand away and publicly accused me of shirking responsibility and having poor character in front of the entire company.

Together they forced me to take the fall for that ten-million-dollar disaster.

Then Richard used his connections to blacklist me across the entire industry.

Buried under massive debt with nowhere to turn, I jumped from the rooftop of a twenty-eight-story building on a rainy night.

The dull thud of my body hitting the concrete, the excruciating pain of shattered bones—I still remember it all clearly.

And them?

They rode the "angel round" investment that Lily secured by selling out our company's bottom-line pricing to competitors, stepped over my corpse to a glorious IPO, and became an industry legend.

Ethan even became the golden son-in-law of Skyhigh Group.

Now, heaven had brought me back to this very moment of signing.

"Sasha..."

Lily peeked out from Ethan's embrace, looking at me with tearful eyes.

But deep in those eyes flashed an extremely subtle provocation.

"Will you forgive me?"

I withdrew my smile.

My gaze turned cold, as if I were looking at three corpses.

"Sure."

I picked up the Montblanc pen from the table and removed the cap.

Ethan froze for a moment, apparently not expecting me to be so agreeable today.

A hint of relief flashed in his eyes.

"Sasha, I knew you were reasonable.

Don't worry, once this blows over, I'll..."

Two swift strokes.

I signed "Sasha Clarke" on the termination notice with sharp, forceful strokes that nearly tore through the paper.

Lily's crying stopped abruptly.

Her eyes widened in shock.

I threw the signed notice in Richard's face.

The sharp edge of the paper left a red mark on his fat cheek.

"What are you doing!"

Richard clutched his face and roared.

Ignoring him, I unzipped my Hermès bag, pulled out another document I'd prepared, and slammed it on the table.

"Read it carefully.

This is my resignation letter."

I braced my hands on the table, looking down at these three scheming people, enunciating each word.

"You don't need to fire me.

I quit.

And I'll take this fall."

With that, I turned toward the conference room door.

"Sasha!

What kind of attitude is this!"

Richard bellowed furiously behind me.

"Do you still want your separation certificate and industry references?

Believe me, I can make sure you never work in this field again!"

I gripped the door handle, not looking back, coldly tossing out.

"Save it for your own epitaph."