Jenna's POV
I made it to my car before I started crying.
Not the quiet, dignified tears I'd managed in Kieran's office building. Ugly, gasping sobs that shook my entire body as I gripped the steering wheel and tried to remember how to breathe.
Six months.
Triple revenue.
He has a girlfriend.
The thoughts circled in my head like vultures, each one taking another piece of whatever composure I had left.
Maya slid into the passenger seat, her face creased with worry. Jenna, honey, you need to calm down. You're hyperventilating.
I can't— The words caught in my throat. Maya, I can't do this. The targets are impossible. He knows they're impossible. He's just making me suffer before he destroys everything anyway.
Then fight back! Maya grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. Tell him the truth. About Marcus, about why you really left—
He won't believe me! I yanked away from her touch. Would you? If someone abandoned you at the altar and then five years later said, 'Sorry, I thought I was dying because a doctor lied to me'? It sounds insane!
It's the truth!
Truth doesn't matter! My voice cracked. Don't you get it? I destroyed him. Completely. I saw it in his eyes—five years of not knowing, of wondering what he did wrong, of thinking I just didn't love him enough. And now he's finally in control again, and he's going to make me pay for every second of pain I caused.
Maya was quiet for a long moment. Then, softly, Do you still love him?
The question hit me like a freight train.
I wanted to lie. To say I'd moved on, that seeing him again was just uncomfortable because of our history.
But this was Maya. My best friend who'd held me through panic attacks and helped me rebuild my life from nothing. She deserved the truth.
I never stopped, I whispered.
Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks as I finally admitted what I'd been denying for five years.
I never stopped loving him. Not for a single day. I just learned to live with the pain of losing him. And now—seeing him again, watching him with Victoria, knowing he hates me—it's like ripping open a wound that never healed.
Maya's eyes filled with tears. Oh, Jenna.
He's moved on. He has this beautiful, sophisticated girlfriend who fits his world perfectly. Who won't leave him. Won't break his heart. I wiped my face roughly. And I have to stand there every Monday and report to him. Have to go to this charity gala on Friday and watch them together. Have to spend six months being reminded of everything I lost.
Then tell him! Maya insisted. Jenna, listen to me. Yes, what you did hurt him. Terribly. But you had a reason—a real reason, not just cold feet or second thoughts. You thought you were dying. You were trying to protect him
By lying? I laughed bitterly. By running away instead of trusting him with the truth? That's not protection, Maya. That's cowardice. And he knows it
It was a terrible situation with no good options
There was one good option, I interrupted. Tell him the truth. Trust him to handle it with me instead of making the choice for him. But I didn't. I panicked and ran, and I destroyed the best thing that ever happened to me.
My phone buzzed. A text from my office manager, James:
Client meeting tomorrow at 10 AM. Hartley Group wants to discuss expanding their contract. This could be huge for us!
The Hartley Group. My biggest client. The one I'd landed just before Kieran bought my company.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
I have to go, I said, starting the car with shaking hands. I have work to do. Six months of impossible work.
Jenna, wait
What, Maya? I turned to her, exhaustion and heartbreak making my voice harsh. What else is there to say? I'm trapped. Kieran owns my company. He's going to destroy it—destroy me—and there's nothing I can do except work myself to death trying to meet targets we both know are impossible.
You could quit, Maya said quietly. Walk away from Morrison Marketing. Start over somewhere else.
The suggestion made me laugh. And let him win? Let him destroy my employees' livelihoods? They depend on me, Maya. James has a kid in college. Sarah is a single mom. I can't just abandon them because things got hard.
Even if staying means destroying yourself?
I thought about the next six months. The weekly meetings with Kieran. The impossible targets. Watching him with Victoria. Knowing every day that I'd lost him forever.
Yes, I said finally. Even then.
Maya studied me with sad, knowing eyes. You're punishing yourself.
Maybe I deserve to be punished.
That's not for you to decide.
I pulled out of the parking garage, Manhattan traffic swallowing us immediately. Maya sat quietly beside me, and I was grateful she didn't try to fill the silence with empty platitudes.
Because there was nothing to say. No way to fix this. No magic words that would make Kieran forgive me or make the past five years disappear.
All I could do was survive.
I need to tell you something, Maya said as I merged onto the highway toward Brooklyn. Something I should have told you weeks ago.
My hands tightened on the wheel. What?
I've been researching Marcus.
Ice flooded my veins. Maya
He was released from prison six months ago.
The car swerved slightly. I corrected, heart hammering. Six months? You've known for six months that he was out and you didn't tell me?
I didn't want to scare you! And honestly, I thought maybe he'd moved on, started over somewhere else. But then, She pulled out her phone. I set up Google alerts on his name. Just to be safe.
And?
He was spotted in Manhattan three weeks ago. Someone from his old hospital recognized him at a coffee shop in Midtown.
My vision blurred at the edges. Manhattan. Midtown. Where Ashford Industries was located. Where I'd just been.
It's probably a coincidence, Maya said quickly. New York is a big city. Just because he's here doesn't mean—
He's watching me.
The certainty settled over me like ice. Marcus had orchestrated my entire breakdown five years ago. Had faked scans, forged test results, destroyed my life because of some sick obsession.
And now he was back.
You don't know that, Maya argued, but she didn't sound convinced.
Who else would come back to New York? He has no family here, no job, no reason to be here except I couldn't finish the sentence.
Except me.
We drove in silence for several minutes, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
Tell Kieran, Maya said finally. Please. If Marcus is back, if he's in the city, you need protection. You need
I need to focus on saving my company, I interrupted. That's all I can handle right now. I can't deal with Kieran, and Marcus, and everything else all at once.
Jenna
No. My voice was firm. I'll be careful. I'll vary my schedule, watch my surroundings. If Marcus contacts me, I'll document everything and go to the police. But I'm not running to Kieran for protection. Not after what I did to him. I don't have that right.
Maya looked like she wanted to argue more, but she swallowed her protests.
We spent the rest of the drive in silence.
When I finally pulled up outside my Brooklyn brownstone, I felt hollowed out. Empty. Like all my emotions had burned through me and left nothing but ash.
Get some sleep, Maya said, hugging me fiercely. Real sleep, not three hours and coffee. You look like death.
Thanks for the honesty, I said with a weak smile.
I mean it. You can't fight on an empty tank. She pulled back, studying my face. Promise me you'll at least think about telling Kieran the truth. About all of it.
I promise I'll think about it, I lied.
Because I'd already thought about it. Had played out every scenario in my head. And they all ended the same way—with Kieran not believing me, or worse, believing me and realizing how completely I'd been manipulated.
Either way, I looked like an idiot. A coward who'd destroyed everything over lies I'd been too stupid to question.
Maya left reluctantly, making me promise to call if I needed anything.
I climbed the stairs to my third-floor apartment, each step feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds.
Inside, my apartment was exactly as I'd left it this morning—coffee mug in the sink, laptop open on the kitchen table, stack of client files waiting for review.
Normal. Everything looked so normal.
Except my entire life had just been destroyed. Again.
I collapsed on my couch and pulled out my laptop. If I only had six months, I needed to start planning immediately.
Triple revenue meant aggressive client acquisition. Cold calling. Networking events. Expanding services. Longer hours. Less sleep.
Everything I'd been doing for five years, just faster and more desperately.
My email inbox was already filling with questions from my team:
What does the Ashford Industries acquisition mean for us?
Are our jobs safe?
Will we get new resources and support?
I closed my laptop without answering.
How could I tell them the truth? That I'd gambled their futures on minority investment deals I hadn't read carefully enough? That my past had caught up with me and now they were all collateral damage?
My phone rang. Unknown number.
I almost didn't answer, but something made me pick up.
Hello?
Silence.
Then, breathing. Heavy. Deliberate.
Who is this? My voice came out steadier than I felt.
More silence. More breathing.
Then a voice I hadn't heard in five years. Soft. Familiar. Terrifying.
Hello, Jenna.
Marcus.
My blood turned to ice.
I've missed you, he continued, his voice carrying that same false warmth he'd used when delivering my fake diagnosis. It's been too long. We have so much to catch up on.
Stay away from me. My hand shook so badly I almost dropped the phone. I have a restraining order—
Which expired three years ago. I checked. A pause. I saw you today. Outside Ashford Industries. You looked upset. Did he hurt you?
He'd been watching. Following me.
What do you want? I whispered.
Just to talk. To explain. I made some mistakes five years ago, but I did it for the right reasons. To protect you. To free you from someone who wasn't worthy of you.
You lied to me! The words exploded out. You faked scans, forged test results, made me believe I was dying
I saved you from a terrible mistake. You would have married him, wasted your life with someone who didn't appreciate you. I gave you the push you needed to be free.
The delusion in his voice was terrifying.
You destroyed my life because you were obsessed with me, I said, my voice shaking. And now you're out of prison and stalking me again. I'm calling the police—
And tell them what? That you got a phone call from an old acquaintance? That I said hello and asked how you were? His laugh was soft, chilling. I haven't threatened you, Jenna. Haven't broken any laws. I'm just... checking in. Making sure you're okay.
I'm fine. Stay away from me.
But you're not fine, are you? I can tell. The stress in your voice, the fear. Someone hurt you today. Was it Kieran?
The way he said Kieran's name made my skin crawl.
Leave me alone. If you contact me again, I'll—
You'll what? Run to Kieran for protection? Marcus's voice sharpened. Does he even know the truth? About why you left him? About me?
My silence answered his question.
Interesting, Marcus said softly. So after all this time, you still haven't told him. You're still keeping secrets. Maybe you learned something from our time together after all.
We never had 'time together.' You were my doctor. You lied to me and ruined my life
I freed you from him. And now he's hurting you again. I can see it, Jenna. The way you looked when you left his building today—devastated. Broken. Just like five years ago.
Tears streamed down my face. Stop. Please, just stop
I'll be around, Marcus said, his tone turning gentle again. Soothing. Like he was comforting a patient. When you're ready to talk, really talk, I'll be waiting. You'll find me when you need me.
I'll never need you.
We'll see.
The line went dead.
I sat frozen on my couch, phone still pressed to my ear, trying to process what had just happened.
Marcus was back. In New York. Watching me. Calling me.
And he knew about Kieran buying my company. Had seen me leaving the building.
Had been following me.
My hands shook as I pulled up my recent calls. The number was blocked. Untraceable.
I should call the police. File a report. Document everything.
But what would I say? An ex-acquaintance called to say hello? There was no threat. No explicit menace. Just Marcus being Marcus—carefully toeing the line between legal and terrifying.
My phone buzzed with a text. For a horrible second, I thought it was Marcus again.
But no—it was Kieran's assistant:
Reminder: First progress report due Monday, 9 AM. Please bring printed copies of all financial documents. Mr. Ashford prefers hard copies for review.
Monday. Three days away.
Three days to somehow make progress on impossible targets while Marcus stalked me and Kieran destroyed me piece by piece.
I pulled up Maya's number and typed out a text:
You were right. Marcus called. He's been watching me. I'm scared.
But I deleted it before sending.
What could Maya do? What could anyone do?
I was trapped between my past and my present, between the man I'd destroyed and the man who'd destroyed me.
And I had six months to somehow survive both of them.
My apartment suddenly felt too small. Too exposed. I checked every lock on my windows and doors. Drew all the curtains. Turned on every light.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that Marcus was out there somewhere, watching my apartment building, waiting.
And that Kieran was in his penthouse across the river, possibly with Victoria, completely unaware that the woman who'd left him was being stalked by the doctor who'd orchestrated the whole thing.
Part of me wanted to call him. To finally tell him everything—the diagnosis, Marcus's manipulation, the five years of guilt and regret.
But I couldn't.
Because the truth would sound like a convenient excuse. A manipulation of its own.
And even if he believed me, it wouldn't change anything.
I'd still destroyed us. Still made the choice to run instead of fight. Still shattered his trust so completely that nothing I said now would matter.
My phone buzzed again. Another unknown number.
I stared at it, heart racing, terrified it was Marcus again.
The text loaded:
Sleep well, Jenna. See you Monday.
-K
Kieran.
Using a private number so I couldn't ignore him. Reminding me that even at eleven PM, he was thinking about me.
About destroying me.
I set my phone down and curled up on my couch, fully dressed, too afraid to go to my bedroom where I'd be further from the door.
And I lay there in the dark, listening to every creak and groan of my building, wondering if Marcus was out there somewhere.
Wondering if I'd survive the next six months.
Wondering if any part of me even wanted to.