I didn't sleep that night.

How could I?

The image of Rhys slipping that diamond ring onto Arden's finger played on repeat behind my eyelids like some twisted horror film. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the smug satisfaction on her face, heard the applause of the crowd celebrating their 'power couple' status, felt the humiliation burning through my veins all over again.

By dawn, I'd moved from shock to a numb determination.

I would face Rhys today. Force him to look me in the eye. Make him explain why he'd erased a year of us as if it had been nothing but a fever dream.

I dressed with particular care—a sharp charcoal suit, hair pulled back in a severe bun, makeup flawless.

Armor, all of it.

Lyra, my wolf, paced restlessly inside me, sensing the confrontation ahead. I silently promised her we wouldn't back down.

"We deserve answers," I whispered to my reflection, straightening my shoulders.

The familiar walk to Montgomery Financial felt different today. The gleaming sixty-story building that had once represented my ambition now loomed like a fortress I needed to breach. I nodded to the usual security guard in the lobby, swiped my keycard at the turnstile—

Nothing happened. The light remained red.

"Ms. Chen?" The security guard approached, his expression uncomfortable. "I need to ask you to step aside."

"There must be something wrong with my card," I said, trying again. Red light. Denial.

"I'm sorry, but your access has been revoked. I'm to escort you to HR."

The lobby suddenly felt too bright, too exposed. Other employees streamed past, some averting their eyes, others openly staring. News traveled fast in the werewolf business world—especially scandalous news.

"My access revoked?" I kept my voice steady despite the panic rising in my chest. "On whose authority?"

The guard shifted uncomfortably. "Mr. Montgomery's. There's someone waiting for you upstairs."

Of course. Rhys was making his next move. The bastard was always three steps ahead.

The elevator ride was excruciating. The guard stood beside me, radiating awkwardness, while I stared straight ahead, refusing to let my expression crack. When the doors opened on the HR floor, I saw a young woman I didn't recognize waiting with a cardboard box.

"Ms. Chen," she said, professional and cold. "I'm Vanessa from HR. Please follow me."

The box held the contents of my office. My awards. My plants. The framed photo of my parents. All neatly packed away as if I'd never existed there at all.

"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded as she led me to a conference room.

"Please, have a seat." She gestured to a chair, ignoring my question.

I remained standing. "I want to speak with Rhys."

"Mr. Montgomery is unavailable," she replied smoothly. "And given the circumstances, direct contact would be inappropriate."

"Inappropriate?" I nearly laughed. "What exactly are the 'circumstances'?"

She slid a folder across the table. "We're implementing some organizational changes following the successful completion of the Apex Project. You're being reassigned to the Records Analysis department, effective immediately."

I opened the folder. The transfer paperwork detailed my new position: Junior Analyst, Records Division. Basement level. A sixty percent pay cut. A career death sentence.

"This is retaliation," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "And it's illegal."

"It's a lateral move that better suits your... current situation." Her emphasis made it clear what she meant. "Given your recent behavior at the celebration event, Mr. Montgomery has been extremely generous in offering continued employment at all."

My hands trembled with rage. "My recent behavior? You mean confronting the man who stole a year of my life? Who took credit for my work and gave it to his fiancée?"

Vanessa's expression remained impassive. "Ms. Chen, there are concerns about your emotional stability and professional boundaries. Multiple witnesses observed your outburst. Mr. Montgomery has been quite tolerant of your... fixation."

"Fixation?" The word felt like acid on my tongue.

"Your inappropriate attachment to your supervisor has been noted by several colleagues. Mr. Montgomery has documented multiple instances where he had to clarify the professional nature of your relationship."

The room seemed to tilt sideways. He'd been building this narrative all along. Every time I'd pushed to go public with our relationship and he'd insisted on privacy, he'd been creating a paper trail. Every late night in his office, every weekend working on "urgent" projects—all of it could now be reframed as my obsessive pursuit of him.

"That's a lie," I said, but even to my own ears, my voice sounded hollow.

"You have two options, Ms. Chen." Vanessa slid another document forward. "Accept the transfer or tender your resignation. Either way, security will escort you to collect your personal items and then out of the building."

I stared at the papers, mind racing. If I resigned, I'd have no income, no reference, no leverage. If I accepted this humiliating demotion, I'd be trapped in a basement, my reputation in tatters, watching Rhys and Arden celebrate their engagement from afar.

"I'll take the transfer," I said finally. "For now."

Vanessa nodded, unsurprised. "You'll report to Records tomorrow morning. Today, you're on administrative leave."

The security guard reappeared to escort me to my former office. The walk through the executive floor was a gauntlet of averted gazes and whispered conversations that abruptly halted as I passed. Outside my office—my former office—stood another guard with my already-packed belongings.

As we waited for the elevator, I heard familiar voices around the corner.

"—completely delusional," came Rhys's smooth voice. "I tried to mentor her, and she constructed this entire fantasy relationship."

"That's terrifying," replied a female voice—Arden. "Do you think she's dangerous?"

"Not dangerous, just unstable. HR is handling it. I feel sorry for her, really."

The sympathy in his voice made my stomach turn. This was the man who had whispered he loved me just three nights ago, whose bed I had left yesterday morning with a kiss and a promise to see him at the celebration.

The elevator arrived, and I stepped in, clutching my box of belongings. As the doors closed, I caught a glimpse of Rhys rounding the corner, his arm around Arden's waist. Our eyes met for a split second—and I saw it. Not guilt. Not remorse. Just cold, calculated satisfaction.

In that moment, something inside me hardened. This wasn't just a betrayal. It was a declaration of war. And if Rhys Montgomery thought I would simply disappear into the basement and fade away, he had gravely miscalculated.

Lyra growled deep within me, a sound I'd never heard from my usually quiet wolf. She wanted blood. And for the first time in my life, so did I.

I stared at the resignation letter on my desk, the cursor blinking at the end of my signature. One click would send it, finalizing the end of my career at Montgomery Financial. One click to admit defeat.

My hands trembled as they hovered over the mouse. This wasn't how it was supposed to end—not after I'd given everything to this company, to Rhys. But the thought of walking into that basement office tomorrow, relegated to shuffling papers while Rhys and Arden paraded their engagement around the executive floor... I couldn't do it. Wouldn't do it.

Lyra, my wolf, had been restless all night, pacing the confines of my consciousness, urging me to run, to escape this toxic environment before it destroyed us both.

I clicked send.

The relief was immediate and overwhelming, washing over me like a cool wave. I'd expected to feel devastated, broken. Instead, I felt lighter than I had in months.

My phone buzzed almost immediately. I expected it to be HR acknowledging my resignation. Instead, a name I hadn't seen in years flashed across the screen: Leo Vance.

"Poppy Chen," his deep voice rumbled through the speaker. "I heard you might be in the market for a new opportunity."

I frowned, glancing at the timestamp on my resignation email. "How could you possibly know that already?"

Leo chuckled. "Word travels fast in our world, especially when it involves Montgomery's top project manager suddenly becoming available."

"Ex-project manager," I corrected, bitterness seeping into my voice.

"Their loss, potentially my gain," Leo replied smoothly. "I've been following your work for years. The Apex Project was brilliant—your fingerprints were all over it, regardless of who's taking credit now."

Something warm unfurled in my chest—recognition, validation. Things Rhys had withheld while exploiting my talents.

"I'm launching a new division at Vance Capital," Leo continued. "Werewolf-owned, werewolf-run, with none of the old pack politics bullshit. I need someone with your skills, someone who can build something from the ground up."

"Where are you based?" I asked, already knowing I'd say yes, already feeling Lyra's approval rumbling through me.

"Chicago. Fresh start, far from New York's incestuous financial circles."

Chicago. Miles away from Rhys, from the humiliation, from the pitying glances of former colleagues. A clean slate.

"When do you need an answer?" I asked, trying to sound professional rather than desperate.

"Take the weekend," Leo said generously. "But Poppy? I've seen what happened. You deserve better than being someone else's stepping stone."

After we hung up, I sat motionless, staring at the phone. How much did Leo know? How many people had witnessed my public humiliation? The thought made my stomach churn, but the opportunity he offered glimmered like a lifeline in dark water.

I didn't need the weekend. I called him back within the hour and accepted.

---

The following morning, I arrived early to clear out my desk. I'd hoped to avoid the spectacle of colleagues watching me pack, but several were already there, hovering at their cubicles, pretending not to stare.

I recognized the awkward silence, the way conversations died as I approached. They'd all seen the videos of my confrontation with Rhys, all heard the rumors he'd carefully cultivated about my "obsession" with him.

"Need help?"

I looked up to find Maya, my former assistant, standing awkwardly by my desk. We'd been close once—lunch dates, after-work drinks, confidantes in the cutthroat world of finance. But she'd been reassigned to Arden two weeks ago, right before the Apex celebration.

"I'm fine," I said, more coldly than I'd intended.

Her eyes darted around nervously. "Poppy, I didn't know. About you and Rhys, about any of it. He told me you'd requested I be transferred because you were too busy with Apex."

Of course he had. Isolating me had been part of his strategy all along.

"It doesn't matter now," I said, placing my awards in a box. Five years of achievements, reduced to items to be carried out in shame.

"Where will you go?" she asked quietly.

"Chicago," I replied, surprising myself with the hint of excitement in my voice. "Fresh start."

Maya nodded, understanding in her eyes. "Good. You deserve it." She hesitated, then added, "For what it's worth, everyone knows who really made Apex happen. Arden can barely explain the basic structure, let alone the innovative elements that made it successful."

It was small comfort, but comfort nonetheless.

As I sealed the last box, the elevator doors opened, revealing Rhys and Arden, laughing together as they stepped onto the floor. The entire office seemed to hold its breath.

Rhys spotted me immediately, his expression shifting to one of practiced concern. "Poppy," he said, his voice carrying across the suddenly silent floor. "I'd hoped to speak with you before you left."

"I have nothing to say to you," I replied, my voice steady despite the rage boiling inside me.

"I understand you're upset," he continued, approaching my desk with Arden trailing behind him. "But I hope someday you'll see this was for the best. The transfer was meant to give you space to... refocus."

The audacity was breathtaking. Lyra snarled within me, urging me to expose him, to tear into him with tooth and claw. But that's exactly what he wanted—another "emotional outburst" to reinforce his narrative.

Instead, I smiled, cold and sharp. "Congratulations on your engagement," I said, my eyes moving to Arden. "I hope you're a quick study. The Apex maintenance protocols are quite complex."

Arden's smug expression faltered slightly. We both knew she didn't understand the first thing about those protocols—protocols I'd designed.

I picked up my box and walked toward the elevator, head high, ignoring the whispers that followed me. As the doors closed, I caught one last glimpse of Rhys's face—the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, the first crack in his perfect façade.

He'd expected me to crumble, to beg, to make a scene. My dignity was the one thing he couldn't take from me.

Chicago was waiting. And so was my revenge.

---

On my last day in New York, I stood in my half-empty apartment, surrounded by the remnants of a life I was leaving behind. Each item I packed forced a decision: keep or discard? What deserved to come with me to my new beginning?

The photo of Rhys and me at the company retreat—discard. The lingerie he'd bought me "just because"—burn. The handwritten notes he'd left on my pillow—tear into confetti.

I was methodical in my destruction, erasing every trace of him from my life as he had tried to erase me from his. With each item that hit the trash or went up in flames in my bathroom sink, I felt lighter, freer.

By sunset, all that remained were three suitcases of clothes, books, and the few mementos that had nothing to do with Rhys Montgomery. My apartment, once filled with dreams of a future with him, now echoed with emptiness—and possibility.

Tomorrow, I would board a plane to Chicago. Tomorrow, Poppy Chen would begin again.