Rejecting the Man Who Built My Empire Chapter 2

The moment my heart truly broke came three months ago, during the Harrison Corp crisis.

It was an all-out corporate war. Alex, trying to prove himself, went rogue and walked right into a trap set by our rival, nearly costing the company a hundred-million-dollar contract.

I was the one who got on a red-eye flight to London, calling in every favor I had, working for seventy-two hours straight to salvage the deal.

Harrison Corp wasn't happy. They sent a message—a dozen thugs who cornered me in an alley outside my hotel.

They left me with two cracked ribs and a concussion. I spent ten days in a London hospital.

Isabelle never visited. She never even called to ask if I was okay.

Her only communication was a single, ice-cold email: You’re the COO. Cleaning up messes is your job. Stop using your injuries as an excuse. Alex is young; he can’t handle a blow like this to his confidence.

My job. He’s young.

She was worried about his confidence. Fine.

But I was her fiancé. Her partner for a decade.

When I finally got back to the office, she didn't ask about my recovery. She demanded to know why I hadn’t completely crushed Harrison Corp in retaliation.

I was quiet for a long moment. Then I asked, “Do you honestly believe that my life is less important than Alex’s ego?”

She slammed her coffee mug on the desk, shattering it.

“When did you become so damn cold-blooded, Ethan? You could have done more! If you can’t handle the pressure, then maybe we should put this engagement on hold.”

It was the third time she’d used our engagement as a weapon.

I met her furious gaze. “Put it on hold?” I asked softly. “So you can get engaged to Alex instead?”

Her face contorted with rage.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Alex is my assistant! Is it a crime to mentor someone? My God, you’re so incredibly paranoid!”

I just smiled. There was no point in arguing.

We didn’t speak for two months after that. A cold war waged across the executive floor.

For her birthday, I managed to acquire a limited-edition Patek Philippe she’d been wanting, pulling strings with a contact in Geneva.

As I approached her office to give it to her, I heard their voices from inside.

It was Alex. “He hasn’t even tried to talk to you after one little fight, Isabelle. Doesn’t that tell you something? Maybe he doesn’t care anymore. Maybe he’s already found someone else.”

And then, Isabelle’s voice, sharp and dismissive. “The biggest regret of my life was agreeing to marry him. He’s small-minded. He was never worthy of me.”

I stood frozen in the hallway, the blood turning to ice in my veins.

A decade of my life. A decade of devotion. And to her, it all boiled down to one thing: unworthy.