Chapter Seven
1006 Words
The Man Who Begins to Break
Ken Jones hadn’t stepped into his office yet, but his world had already begun to crumble long before the clock struck eight.
He hadn’t slept.
He hadn’t eaten.
He hadn’t even registered the sunrise.
All he saw—over and over, like a loop he couldn’t escape—
was Mira walking past him the night before.
Her eyes had been calm.
Not cold.
Not angry.
Just… gone.
There are moments in a man’s life when the consequences of his sins finally catch up to him,
when regret claws at his throat, when fear grips his chest with ice-cold hands.
This was that moment for Ken.
He kept replaying the sound of her footsteps leaving the penthouse.
The quiet click of the door.
The silence that followed.
He kept searching for the moment he could have stopped her.
Where he could have undone everything.
But there was nothing.
A man can beg.
A man can cry.
A man can regret.
But none of those things rewrite a single truth.
And the truth was simple:
He had pushed her away long before she walked out.
"The Walk of Shame — CEO Edition"
When Ken entered the company lobby, he felt the shift immediately.
Eyes.
Everywhere.
Whispers trailed behind him like shadows that refused to detach.
“The CEO looks terrible.”
“Did he sleep in his car last night?”
“Is he hungover?”
“Oh God… did the wife finally find out?”
"Did they started a fight?"
“No wonder he’s distracted—he’s been with that assistant.”
Ken’s chest tightened as he pushed through the glass doors.
He wasn’t a stranger to office gossip—powerful men rarely were—but today, their words didn’t feel like noise.
They felt like knives.
When he reached the top-floor corridor, the weight of rumors seemed to thicken the air.
His tie felt tight around his throat.
His breathing became short, shallow.
He clenched his jaw as he walked, his footsteps angry, uneven.
Even now—even at the brink of losing everything— his ego flared.
Not remorse.
Not wisdom.
Not growth.
Ego.
Ego at being exposed.
Ego at being judged.
Ego at losing control of the narrative he had kept so carefully curated.
He slammed his office door shut behind him.
But the silence inside was louder.
Colder.
Crueler.
He reached for his phone automatically, as if it were oxygen.
Still no message from Mira.
He dialed again.
Ring.
Ring.
Voicemail.
Her voice, recorded months ago, felt like a ghost brushing past his ear.
“Hi, this is Mira—leave a message.”
He swallowed hard.
“Mira… please. Please pick up. Just talk to me.
I—I didn’t mean for any of this—just come back. Please.”
Voicemail swallowed his desperation.
He wiped his face with both hands, his palms shaking.
His reflection in the glass window startled him.
Disheveled.
Haunted.
Not the charismatic CEO the world admired.
Not the billionaire Ken Jones that people envied.
Just a man falling apart.
Enter Chyna — The Woman Who Wanted His Crown, Not His Heart
A soft knock broke through the suffocating silence.
“What?” he snapped.
The door opened slowly.
Chyna stepped inside.
Long black hair cascading over her shoulders.
Perfect red lipstick.
A tailored dress that hugged her confidence like armor.
Sexy high heels that accentuate her legs even more.
Once upon a time, Ken had found her intoxicating—
the flirtation, the validation, the thrill of someone wanting him without demanding anything deeper.
But today…
Today she looked like a trap he had allowed himself to fall into.
“Ken,” she said with affected concern,
“You didn’t reply to my messages. Is everything okay?”
He scoffed, running a hand through his hair.
“Don’t. Not today.”
She approached him slowly—
too slowly.
As if she owned the room.
As if she owned him.
“You look horrible,” she murmured.
He flinched.
“Mira left,” he muttered.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just enough for the truth to escape.
There was a pause.
Barely noticeable.
But enough.
And Ken—desperate, unraveling—saw everything in that moment:
Chyna wasn’t shocked.
She wasn’t worried.
She wasn’t even pretending to care.
She was calculating.
Measuring what Mira’s absence meant for her.
For them.
For the future she assumed she’d just inherited.
A chill crawled up his spine.
“How long,” he whispered,
“have you been waiting for this?”
Chyna didn’t respond.
Her silence was confirmation.
He turned away, a mix of nausea and fury tightening in his stomach.
He wasn’t disgusted with her.
He was disgusted with himself.
With the choices he made.
With the lies he told.
With the woman he had thrown away.
With the realization that Mira had been the only person
who ever truly loved him without expecting anything in return.
And he had lost her.
The Beginning of His Downfall
Ken tried to dive into work, hoping structure might save him.
Hoping his busy schedule could outdo the damage in him.
It didn’t.
Of course it didn't.
Meetings slipped from his grasp.
Numbers blurred on spreadsheets.
Words in presentations sounded foreign.
Employees watched him with unease.
The unshakeable CEO— now shaken.
The man who once commanded rooms— now lost.
And his phone—
the device that once fed his ego—
the very device he used to betray his unsuspecting wife -
now tormented him with silence.
Every vibration sent his heart racing.
Every moment of stillness felt like punishment.
Every second without Mira’s voice felt like drowning.
He buried his face in his hands.
Bitter tears falling in his eyes.
Regret.
The truth was brutal:
The woman who held his world together
had walked away.
And the emptiness she left behind
was colder than any punishment imaginable.
The coldness seeps into his bones
into his heart...
into his lungs...
into the very air he breathes.
- Writer
