The rain began before Aaron's flight landed.
By the time he reached the city, water was running from his hair and collar, and his shoes made wet marks across the marble floor of Vanguard Dynamics.
He had spent two days trying to find another way out.
There wasn't one.
Banks refused him.
Investors withdrew.
Suppliers demanded guarantees.
The thirteen patent licenses remained suspended.
And the one point five billion dollars he owed could not be replaced quickly enough.
He entered the executive conference room.
His chief financial officer was already waiting.
"Give me the number."
The CFO opened his laptop.
"We have nine hundred million in available cash."
Aaron stared at him.
"And the rest?"
"Six hundred million short."
"How long?"
"Until tomorrow morning."
Aaron rubbed his face.
"What happens then?"
"The courts can freeze the operating accounts."
"And payroll?"
"At risk."
"Suppliers?"
"Likely gone."
Aaron looked through the glass wall at the employees moving around the floor.
People who had believed in him.
People who had mortgages.
Children.
Families.
He had always thought of Vanguard as his creation.
Now he was beginning to see how many lives were tied to it.
"Can we borrow the difference?"
"I called the banks."
"And?"
"No one will touch us."
"Why?"
The CFO hesitated.
"You know why."
Aaron looked away.
"The Vance family."
The words sounded different now.
He remembered the doors that had opened when Vanguard was still small.
He remembered introductions.
Preferential financing.
Favorable contracts.
Executives who returned calls immediately.
He had always interpreted those things as proof of his influence.
Now he understood.
Someone had been removing obstacles before he ever reached them.
The office door opened.
Jasmine walked in.
Her hair was damp from the rain.
She carried a termination letter.
She threw it onto Aaron's desk.
"What is this?"
Aaron looked at the paper.
"You've been dismissed."
Her face hardened.
"You fired me?"
"I didn't."
"Then who did?"
"Human resources."
"Because of her?"
Aaron stared at her.
"Don't."
She stepped closer.
"I did everything you wanted."
His expression changed.
"What exactly did you do?"
Her confidence faltered.
"On the plane."
Aaron said nothing.
"You wanted your wife to feel replaced."
His eyes narrowed.
"Be careful."
"You told me she needed to understand that you didn't need her."
The room became very quiet.
Then Aaron opened his laptop.
"I checked the security logs."
Jasmine froze.
He turned the screen toward himself.
"There are files you accessed."
Her face changed.
"That's not—"
"Technical quotations."
He looked at her.
"You sent them outside the company."
"I didn't."
"You sent confidential pricing information to a competitor."
She stepped backward.
"No."
Aaron continued.
"And six months ago, you sent private photographs to my wife."
Jasmine stopped breathing for a moment.
He remembered those messages now.
At the time, he had dismissed them as jealousy.
Alyssa had never reacted.
She had simply deleted them.
He had assumed that meant she was weak.
He finally understood that it had meant she had seen Jasmine clearly and decided she wasn't worth the fight.
"You weren't trying to protect me," Aaron said.
Jasmine's eyes filled with tears.
"I loved you."
"No."
He stood.
"You loved what being close to me could give you."
She shook her head.
"You don't get to blame me for your marriage."
Aaron's face hardened.
"Get out."
She remained still.
"I can explain."
"Leave."
"I can fix this."
"You've already done enough."
She reached for the desk.
Aaron pointed toward the door.
"If I find another piece of company information on your devices, I'll have legal handle it."
Jasmine's face went pale.
She turned and walked out.
The door closed.
Aaron stood alone.
Rain struck the windows.
Thunder rolled over the city.
He looked at the empty chair where Jasmine had been sitting.
Then he thought of me.
For the first time, he understood that there was only one person left who could change the outcome.
He drove to the Vance estate.
He did not call first.
The gates were closed.
George saw him through the security system.
A few minutes later, he came inside and found me in the living room with Michael.
A chessboard sat between us.
George entered quietly.
"Miss Vance."
I looked up.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Prescott is outside."
Michael glanced toward me.
"In this weather?"
I looked toward the windows.
Rain streaked the glass.
"How long has he been there?"
"Almost an hour."
I moved a chess piece.
"Let him wait."
Michael watched me.
"You've already made your decision."
"I made it on the plane."
Another hour passed.
Then I told George to open the gates.
Aaron entered the house soaked from head to toe.
Water dripped from his coat onto the polished floor.
He looked nothing like the confident CEO who had told me to remember my place.
His shoulders were bent.
His face was exhausted.
He stopped several feet from me.
"Alyssa."
I said nothing.
"I'm sorry."
Michael quietly left the room.
Aaron watched him go.
Then he looked back at me.
"I was wrong."
I lifted my tea.
"You were cruel."
He swallowed.
"I know."
"You embarrassed me in front of your entire executive team."
"I know."
"You replaced me with someone you barely knew."
"I know."
"Why are you here?"
He hesitated.
Then he answered honestly.
"Because I need you."
I set down the cup.
There it was.
The truth.
Not love.
Not remorse.
Need.
"If Vanguard were safe," I asked, "would you still be standing in my house?"
He looked at me.
He could not answer.
That was enough.
He dropped to his knees.
"Please."
I watched him.
"I can give you control."
"Of what?"
"The company."
I shook my head.
"You're still negotiating."
He looked up.
"I'll sign anything."
I stood.
"Good."
I walked to the table.
A folder was waiting there.
I opened it.
Divorce papers.
His eyes fell to the pages.
"Alyssa."
"Sign them."
He stared at me.
"If I do this, you'll save the company?"
"No."
His face crumpled.
"I'll protect the workers."
He looked confused.
"The company itself has to answer for the debt."
I placed the pen on the table.
"You have spent four years believing everything I gave you was yours."
He looked at the papers.
"Please don't do this."
"You made your choice on the plane."
He picked up the pen.
His hand trembled.
Then he signed.
The sound of the pen moving across paper was almost impossible to hear beneath the rain.
But I heard it.
Four years ended with three strokes of ink.
Aaron looked up.
"Please."
His voice was barely audible.
"Don't let the factory workers suffer."
For the first time that night, I saw something in his face that had nothing to do with himself.
Concern.
Perhaps it had taken losing everything for him to notice the people standing behind him.
I nodded once.
"I won't."
His eyes closed.
"Vance Enterprises will take over the facilities. The workers will keep their jobs."
He breathed out shakily.
"But you will leave."
He rose slowly.
The papers remained on the table between us.
Aaron walked toward the door.
At the threshold, he stopped.
He looked back.
For a moment, I saw the young man I had loved years earlier—the man who had once run through the rain to bring me medicine when we were students.
Then the moment passed.
He left.
I watched the door close.
Outside, the rain continued falling.
Inside, everything was quiet.
The marriage was over.
The company would change hands.
And somewhere beneath all the anger, grief finally arrived—not because I had lost Aaron, but because I finally understood how long I had been losing myself.
Click Here to continue read next: PART5: The Divorce Was Signed, Yet One Last Secret in the Company Records Forced Me to Question Whether Aaron Had Ever Known the Truth
She Took My Seat Before Takeoff, and My Husband Made It Clear Whose Comfort Mattered More Than Four Years of Marriage
Part 4 of 8
