After I left, they begged for Forgiveness

Chapter 2- The Quiet Exit

Forty minutes later, Valeria emerged from the private lounge with that same glowing smile painted back on her face like fresh makeup. Polished. Powerful. Unbothered.

But Elijah saw the faint smudge in her lipstick. The way she adjusted her hair with a quick glance at her phone camera. He didn’t need proof. He already knew.

She spotted him standing by the far column like an accessory someone forgot to put away.

“There you are,” she said sharply. “Prepare the car. We’re leaving soon.”

No “please.” No “thanks.” Just another command.

Elijah didn’t move.

“I want to talk,” he said, voice low, steady. “Outside.”

Valeria didn’t even pause. “You’re not the one feeding me, Elijah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “So whatever this is, say it here. I don’t have time for drama.”

He looked around. People were nearby. Business suits and cocktail dresses, too consumed in networking to pay attention—but still, too close. She didn’t care. She never did.

He sighed.

“I can’t stand it anymore, Valeria,” he said, eyes finally locking onto hers. “The way you talk to me. The way you humiliate me. In public, in private—it’s like I’m not even human to you.”

She scoffed, already halfway turning away.

“Then leave,” she snapped. “Go cry it out in the corner or wherever it is you feel sorry for yourself. I’ve got no time for this bullshit.”

The words hit, but this time—Elijah didn’t flinch.

He looked down for a breath, then raised his chin and met her eyes. There was something different in his stare. Something she hadn’t seen in a long time.

Conviction.

“I want out,” he said, quiet but clear. “And this time, I mean it.”

Her brows arched, caught off guard for just a second.

“I’m done pretending. You’ll be fine without me, right? Let’s test that.”

For a moment, the air stilled.

Then Valeria chuckled.

That slow, belittling laugh that always meant she thought she still had the upper hand.

“You?” she said with venomous amusement. “Where will you go, Elijah? You have nothing. No money. No job. No spine. You’ll come crawling back, like you always do.”

She leaned in close, voice dropping to a hiss. “You need me.”

But this time, Elijah didn’t look away.

“No,” he said, calm. Final. “You needed me. You just never noticed.”

He turned his back and walked away.

And Valeria... didn’t laugh.

Not this time.

Valeria stood there for a moment, staring at Elijah’s back as he walked away—like he wasn’t bluffing this time.

But then she exhaled through her nose and shook her head with a scoff. “Let him go,” she muttered under her breath. “He’s replaceable. Like everything else.”

She turned away, brushing invisible dust from her blazer sleeve. She wasn’t going to let a failed husband ruin her night. Not when she was this close to closing a deal that would elevate her to the next level.

As if on cue, Donovan approached, flashing his signature million-dollar smile. He extended his hand.

“Congratulations, Valeria,” he said smoothly. “The board’s impressed. All that’s left is your final thumbprint to seal the acquisition.”

Behind him, a man in a fitted gray suit approached with a sleek black suitcase. He popped it open with a soft click, revealing neatly stacked documents and a compact thumbprint scanner prepped with blue biometric ink.

“Just here,” the man said professionally, tapping the dotted line beside the digital reader. “Once we receive your confirmation, our legal team will proceed.”

Valeria smiled, proud and poised. She reached into her bag for her phone to authenticate the deal—only to notice it vibrating. Her secretary.

She frowned.

Why would she be calling now?

She answered with a sigh. “What is it?”

The voice on the other end was frantic. “Ma’am—there’s trouble. Serious trouble. Eighty percent of our internal investors have just pulled their funds. All at once. We’re hemorrhaging value. Like—now.”

Valeria blinked. “What are you talking about? That’s not possible.”

“We tried calling you fifteen minutes ago. And more are withdrawing by the second. We don’t know what’s happening, but it’s bad. Really bad.”

Her pulse spiked. “Run diagnostics. Call legal. Call risk. Freeze external—”

But then Donovan’s voice cut in.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said, phone pressed to his ear, stepping aside.

Valeria’s heart thudded in her chest as she watched him nod slowly.

Then his eyes flicked toward her. Cold. Corporate.

He ended the call and turned back, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“I’m sorry, Valeria,” he said, tone now entirely different. “The board has just decided to withdraw from the partnership. Effective immediately.”

Valeria’s mouth opened, then closed again. “What? Donovan, that’s a seven hundred million dollar deal.”

He gave a slight shrug, as if it were out of his hands. “And now it’s a deal off the table.”

The man with the thumbprint scanner quietly shut the suitcase and walked away without another word.

Her phone buzzed again. Another call. Another alert. More losses. The numbers were dropping like dominoes, and she had no clue why.

No. This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t possible.

She spun, scanning the crowd .

She spun, scanning the crowd for someone, anyone—maybe a lifeline—but all she saw were blurry faces, half-glances, people already backing away, distancing themselves from whatever train wreck they sensed was coming.

Her phone rang again.

She grabbed it like a lifeline. It was her secretary.

“Hello?” she said breathlessly, voice shaky now.

“Ma’am,” the voice came carefully, like it was tiptoeing. “The Board of Directors would like to see you first thing tomorrow morning. No delays.”

Valeria’s throat tightened. “The board? Why?” Her voice cracked. “This wasn’t supposed to happen—what about the short-term equity flips? The projects we invested in? The Dubai real estate package? The Swiss biotech labs? The whole point was to triple the capital, not—”

“I know, ma’am. But those ventures are down too,” the secretary said quietly. “The accounts are showing red across the board. Everything… it’s all down the drain.”

Valeria's mouth opened slightly, air struggling to move through it. The noise of the gala around her faded into a tunnel of static. Her hand gripped her phone like it might disappear. Her other hand touched her chest, fingers trembling. She felt a tightness that wasn’t just emotional.

Not now.

Not this.

She tried to draw a breath, but it caught in her throat. Her chest rose sharply—once, twice—but the air wasn’t coming fast enough. Not full. Not deep.

People were starting to notice now. She could see a few heads turning. One man stepped forward. “Is she alright?”

She stumbled back, one heel catching on the edge of the rug beneath her. Her vision spotted at the edges. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears like a war drum.

Her inhaler. Where was it?

Valeria’s knees buckled, and before anyone could catch her, she collapsed to the polished marble floor with a dull thud.

Her phone skidded from her hand.

The screen was still lit—still connected.

“Ma’am?” the secretary’s voice echoed faintly through the speaker. “Ma’am?”

But Valeria couldn’t answer.