Chapter 2
The next morning, I deliberately avoided leaving at the same time as Sarah.
After arriving at work, I went straight to my personal studio.
This was a private space Sarah had specially partitioned for me in the company.
It housed all my creative works and award certificates from over the years.
But the moment I pushed open the door, I froze.
All the trophies and certificates that usually sat in the display cabinet were gone.
The posters I had personally designed, hanging on the walls, had been taken down, replaced by decorative paintings I’d never seen before.
What made me even angrier was finding Caleb sitting in my chair.
Design drafts were spread out in front of him, and a cup of coffee sat nearby, making him look like the owner of the place.
He saw me enter, a flicker of panic in his eyes, but it quickly morphed into that innocent expression.
“Mr. Hayes, you’re here. Ms. Sterling said I could work here temporarily because it’s too noisy outside, and it affects my thinking.”
Ms. Sterling.
That title grated on my ears.
“Where are my things?”
Caleb pretended not to understand, his gaze darting away.
“What things?”
“My trophies, my certificates, my work.”
“Oh, those. Ms. Sterling said she put them away for now. She said displaying them might put pressure on me.”
I stared at him for a long moment, then turned to find Sarah.
She was in a meeting with a few clients. Her brow furrowed when she saw me push the door open.
“Sarah, I need to talk to you.”
“Wait until I finish my meeting.”
“Now.”
My tone left no room for refusal. The clients sensed the tension in the air and voluntarily suggested rescheduling.
Once only the two of us were left in the conference room, Sarah impatiently spoke.
“What’s wrong now? Didn’t I explain everything yesterday?”
“Why are all my things gone from my studio?”
Her expression flickered with a hint of guilt, but her words remained unyielding, defiant.
“Caleb needs a quiet environment to create. And those trophies, they really do put pressure on people when they’re displayed there.”
“That’s my studio.”
“Every space in this company is mine. I can arrange it however I want!”
That sentence slapped me hard across the face.
Yes, this was her company. Phoenix Creative, which she had built from the ground up.
And I, I was merely her nominal Creative Director, in reality, more like a free idea provider.
When we first partnered, I contributed my expertise as an investment, but my stake was small. Most of the decision-making power was in her hands.
I always thought we had moved beyond that initial purely transactional relationship.
I thought we had real love and trust between us.
But now, it seemed, in her mind, I was still just a subordinate she could freely command.
“Sarah, you’ve changed.”
A flicker of something crossed her eyes, but it was quickly masked by stubbornness.
“I haven’t changed. You’re just too sensitive. It’s just borrowing a space, why are you making such a fuss?”
I turned and left the conference room, a decision hardening in my heart.
Since she didn’t care about my feelings, there was no need for me to continue to compromise.