Chapter 4
976 Words
The name Lucas Lane wasn't new to me.
Three years ago, when Jason was just starting out, he ran headlong into the most brutal competition of his career. The project on the other side of that fight was one of Lucas's.
Lucas had just come back from overseas, sharp instincts and no mercy. Within a single year he'd already backed two breakout projects.
Jason never let on how much it got to him. But behind closed doors, he spent hours dissecting every one of Lucas's case studies.
He used to say, "People like Lucas Lane are born at the top. They have access to resources the rest of us will never see."
"So will you," I'd told him once.
He'd smiled and pulled me close. "With you by my side, of course I will."
And slowly, he got there. I helped him chase down clients, rework proposals, survive pitch after pitch. To land his first major contract, I spent three consecutive nights sleeping in the conference room.
When it came through, everyone praised him for his nerve. Nobody knew the deck that convinced those investors had been rewritten by me at four in the morning.
The next morning, I arrived at Lane Group right on time.
In the top-floor conference room, a man in a black shirt was seated at the table. He looked up as I walked in, his expression cool but not overbearing.
A printed proposal lay on the table in front of him. The same project Sophie had used in the competition.
But the name on the cover was Jason's.
Lucas opened to the first page. "I've seen this proposal before. Three months ago."
I faltered. He held my gaze.
"Jason brought it in when he was pitching for investment. He said it was built by his team."
So it wasn't just Sophie. Long before she ever put her name on it, Jason had already erased mine.
"At the time, I asked him who built the underlying model," Lucas continued. "He said it was Sophie Sullivan."
My throat tightened, but I managed a measured smile. "Is that why you wanted to meet me, Mr. Lane? To verify the facts?"
"No." He closed the folder. "I wanted to ask whether you'd be interested in seeing this project through to completion yourself."
He slid a contract across the table. "Lane Group is launching a new division. We need someone to head it. Double your current salary. You pick your own team, and you'll be in charge of everything."
'You'll be in charge of everything.'
Four years I'd spent waiting to hear something like that from Jason.
He always said, "You're talented, just help me out for now.
"Once the company stabilizes, I'll give you the best position there is.
"Don't rush, your time will come."
Opportunity after opportunity arrived, and each time I was the one pushed aside, the path laid down so someone else could walk forward.
"Why me?" I asked.
"Because I only look at ability," Lucas said. Then he added, "And because I don't like watching thieves win. Three years ago, the model in Jason's first pitch was already familiar to me. The versions that followed were consistent in style, but the name on the cover kept changing.
"The headhunter ran a background check, and your former colleagues were unanimous. So the person I wanted to meet wasn't Jason Grant's employee. It was the person who actually built that model."
I didn't say another word. I picked up the pen and signed my name at the bottom of the contract. Steady. Unhesitating.
Coming out of Lane Group, the sun was sharp.
My phone showed more than a dozen missed calls, all from Jason. He'd also sent a message.
Jason: The landlord says you gave notice. Are you really moving out?
I didn't reply. I took a car home.
Jason was standing outside the door, still in yesterday's clothes, collar creased. When he saw me, he crossed the distance quickly. "Where have you been?"
I stepped past his outstretched hand. "Signing a contract."
His expression shifted. "What contract?"
"New job."
He looked at me like he hadn't quite heard right. "You're actually going through with the resignation?"
"I told you yesterday."
A beat of silence. His voice dropped. "Serena, don't be impulsive. I can work something out with Sophie. Deputy project manager, it's yours."
I almost laughed. "Jason. Do you still think I'm only doing this to force your hand?"
His brow furrowed. "Aren't you?"
Before I could answer, the elevator doors opened. A mover stepped out pushing an empty box.
"Ms. Shaw? This unit?"
"That's right." I stepped aside.
Jason's face went rigid. "You're giving up home too?"
"This was never home."
His throat worked. Something moved behind his eyes, something I hadn't seen there before.
"Then what am I to you?"
I looked at him.
There was a time I'd thought he was the one thing keeping me steady, the one person in this city I could lean on.
Today I understood. Every hard stretch I'd ever lived through, I'd lived through on my own. He was never a shelter from the storm. He was the one making it.
"Nothing anymore," I said.
My phone buzzed. A message from Lucas.
Lucas: Ms. Shaw, tomorrow at nine. Kickoff meeting at Lane Group.
Right behind it, a screenshot. Investment due diligence materials from Jason's company.
The document read:
Core Project Manager: Sophie Sullivan
Core Model Developer: Sophie Sullivan
Intellectual Property: Original to the company. Confirmed by Jason Grant.
I stared at those lines.
Whatever dull ache had been left in my chest went cold and hard.
All those times I'd given in, all those times I'd stepped back. Every one of them spent building a professional record that Jason had simply handed to Sophie.
"Jason Grant. Whatever we had between us, it's over."
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