Chapter 24: Untitled

Chapter 24 – Patricia’s Last Gambit

Patricia had never felt fear like this. Not when she clawed her way into Richard’s life, not when she stood on stages pretending, she had won. But now, watching him unravel in front of her, haunted by Stella’s presence, fear gripped her like a vice.

She had to act.

Her plan was simple: discredit Stella, destroy her reputation in front of the board, and drag David down with her. If Stella was removed from the picture, Richard would have no choice but to cling to Patricia.

The opportunity came during the final presentation of the merger. The conference room brimmed with executives, tension thick in the air. Stella stood at the head of the table, confident, composed, presenting her analysis with quiet authority. David sat nearby, his support steady, his gaze protective.

Patricia struck.

She interrupted with a folder of “evidence”—misfiled reports, numbers twisted to look like Stella’s work. “It seems,” Patricia said, her smile sharp, “that Stella has been careless. Costly mistakes like these could jeopardize everything we’ve built.”

Gasps rippled through the room. Stella froze, her heart lurching.

Before she could defend herself, David rose. Calm. Steady. His voice carried.

“Those numbers,” he said, lifting the papers from Patricia’s hand, “aren’t Stella’s. They’re mine. I drafted that report last week, and she caught the errors before it ever left her desk. I can prove it.”

The room shifted, whispers rising. Patricia’s smile faltered.

Richard’s eyes narrowed. “Patricia, is this true?”

For a flicker of a moment, her mask slipped. Panic flashed in her eyes. Then she laughed too loudly. “You think I planted false evidence? That’s absurd.”

But no one was convinced. Least of all Richard.

“Enough,” he said, his voice cold. “You’ve gone too far.”

The silence that followed was crushing. Patricia’s world cracked around her—the approval she fed on, the illusion she had crafted. With nothing left to hide behind, she spat her venom one last time.

“You’ll regret this, Richard. Both of you,” she hissed, glaring at Stella and David. “She’s not strength—she’s weakness dressed as dignity. And you’ll see it when she breaks.”

She stormed out, leaving the room heavy with her downfall.

But Stella didn’t break. She stood taller. For the first time, the whispers in the room weren’t about rumors—they were about respect.

That evening, Richard sought her out. His shoulders sagged, his eyes hollow.

“I lost you,” he said quietly. “And it’s my fault. Patricia’s gone, and I can’t even bring myself to chase after her. All I want is what we had, Stella. Just one more chance.”

Stella looked at him, the ache of old wounds stirring—but something had changed. The pull he once had on her was gone.

“You’re right,” she said softly. “You lost me. But I didn’t lose myself. Not anymore.”

Her words ended it—not with anger, but with finality. Richard lowered his head, the weight of regret crushing him, and walked away.