He Gave Her My Masterpiece. I Came Back from the Dead and Took It All Back.

Chapter 2 My First Counterattack

Back at the apartment, I backed up the recording to an email account Adrian knew nothing about and set up automatic forwarding. Then I drafted my resignation and divorce papers.

He came through the door at dawn and stared at the documents on the table. "You're ending a five-year marriage over a name?"

"You still think this is just about a name?"

"I have reasons I can't tell you."

"Then don't."

His phone rang. Vivian's name lit up the screen. As I watched him, one ridiculous shred of hope remained inside me. 'Hang up. Just this once, hang up for me.'

He answered, his voice immediately dropping. "Stay where you are. I'll be right there."

I dragged my suitcase out the door. He did not follow.

That afternoon, I returned to the firm to collect my original sketches. My computer password had already been disabled, and my drawers had been emptied. Yet cameras had been set up in the lobby, where Vivian was introducing the Arts Center model to reporters.

"Why doesn't the main entrance face the bay?" one reporter asked.

Vivian paused. "To give the exterior a more dynamic form."

"She's wrong."

Every camera turned toward me at once.

I walked up to the model and looked Vivian straight in the eye. "You don't even know why this door opens in this direction. What gives you the right to put your name on my drawings?"

Her smile froze. "You were only the project assistant."

"The entrance was turned to shield it from the sea winds during storms—and so wheelchair users wouldn't have to cross an excessively steep ramp."

I lifted the model's base, revealing the date, my initials, and a handwritten note Adrian had left there five years ago.

The reporters immediately pressed closer. "Who is Elena?"

I looked into the cameras.

"My name is Elena Brooks. The design you're filming belongs to me."

The lobby fell silent for one second before questions erupted from every direction.

When Adrian arrived, the cameras were still rolling. He had security escort me out, then told the reporters I was a former employee in the middle of an emotional breakdown.

The first reporter who questioned Vivian followed me to the door and slipped a business card into my hand.

"Lydia Grant," she whispered. "The video is already online. They won't be able to erase every copy."

Across the street, the giant screen was still replaying the launch, but people in the comments were already asking who Elena Brook was.

Adrian caught up with me at the elevator. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"I let everyone see the person you kept hidden."

"That video could destroy the project."

"Oh."

The elevator doors closed between us.

Just before the gap disappeared, I saw Victor emerge from the conference room and slam a document against Adrian's chest.

"Cut her off from the project completely by the end of today," he said quietly. "Otherwise, Green Group pulls its funding, and the board replaces you. As for her, my lawyers will have her charged with stealing trade secrets."

Adrian said nothing.

That evening, the company pressured every platform to take down the video.

The next day, the state architectural licensing board contacted me.

Cole Architects had accused me of possessing internal plans without authorization and requested an investigation into the ownership of the design.

Until the investigation was complete, I could not take on new projects as lead architect.

Three firms that had once agreed to interview me canceled one after another.

Colleagues who had stayed up through the night revising plans with me stopped answering their phones.

The video continued to circulate online, while Cole Architects portrayed me as a disgruntled former employee exploiting her marriage to steal credit for the firm's work.

In a single day, the entire industry stopped trusting me.

And the man who reported me was Adrian.