Gone For Good

"You're seriously dumping me just because I left you on read yesterday?" Sloane, my billionaire CEO girlfriend of ten years, crossed her arms, her eyes dripping with condescending impatience.

After I spent a decade helping her build her empire from the ground up, she was dead set on the delusion that I could never survive without her. I didn't waste my breath.

I yanked the zipper of my suitcase shut and headed straight for the front door. Click. The deadbolt suddenly turned from the outside.

Asher, her newly hired assistant, pushed the door open. Dangling between his fingertips was a silver house key. The exact same key burning a hole in my pocket.

He flashed a shiteating grin. "Don't get pissed, Hayes. I was the one begging Sloane to stay with me last night." And my girlfriend?

She just stood right beside him, offering zero denial, watching me with a cold, detached stare. I let out a dry scoff.

I shoved past the two of them and slammed the heavy front door shut behind me without a backward glance. If it wasn't one hundred percent, it was garbage to me.

Chapter 1 Her voice carried a trace of utter disbelief, as if she were listening to the most absurd joke on earth.

The harsh light hit her face, illuminating her flawless makeup and that signature, condescending exhaustion.

Sloane let out a heavy sigh, one devoid of any urge to make me stay, packed only with irritation. "Hayes, we're adults.

Is it really that hard to give each other a little space?" Her perfectly shaped brows knitted together as she launched into her explanation, though her tone sounded exactly like she was delegating tasks to a subordinate. "I wasn't giving you the cold shoulder.

I was just buried in work. A major project. I simply couldn't find the time." Ziiip. I yanked the zipper of my suitcase shut.

The metallic rasp sliced through the dead air, severing the final thread of whatever we had left. I stood up, my tall frame brushing right past her.

I didn't even bother to give her a second glance as I walked by, merely dropping a cold, detached nod. "We're done. I'm leaving." An icecold hand clamped down hard on my wrist.

For the first time, a fracture of panic bled into Sloane's voice. "Hayes, where are you going?

Are you seriously abandoning me?" I shook off her grip, like I had just been burned by toxic waste.

I tilted my head, locking eyes with the face I used to love straight down to my marrow, and enunciated every single syllable. "Abandoning you?" A sarcastic sneer carved itself into my features. "Get this straight, Sloane.

From the very beginning, you were the one who abandoned me." My fingertips barely grazed the cold metal of the doorknob. Click. The deadbolt turned from the outside.

The door swung open. A young, handsome face, plastered with a sickeningly innocent smile, appeared in the doorway. It was Sloane's personal assistant, Asher.

Chapter 2 The three of us stood paralyzed in the cramped entryway, locked in a sickeningly ironic standoff. My gaze dragged downward, fixing on his perfectly manicured fingers.

Pinched between his fingertips was a house key. It was the exact same silver key sitting in my pocket.

I let out a soundless laugh, the kind that scraped the back of my throat and sent a sharp, physical throb straight through my ribs.

Asher's eyes casually flicked down to the suitcase at my feet. A smug, predatory gleam flashed in his pupils, so fast you would miss it if you blinked.

He curved his lips into a harmless, boynextdoor smile.

His voice dripped with fake sincerity. "Hayes, heading out on a business trip?" He shifted his weight, clearing a path for me with the sheer arrogance of someone who already owned the house. "Go on, don't worry about a thing.

I'll take excellent care of Sloane while you're gone." He practically purred the words excellent care, making it sound like a dirty promise.

I broke eye contact, a wave of nausea hitting the back of my throat. I just needed to get out of this toxic wasteland.

But Asher intentionally pitched his voice up, making damn sure the woman behind him heard every syllable. "Hayes, seriously, don't be mad at Sloane.

Her ignoring your texts yesterday wasn't on purpose, I swear!" He put a hand to his chest, playing the guiltridden martyr to perfection. "It's entirely my fault. I'm just so slow.

That project was massive, and I kept messing it up." His tone practically dripped with worship. "Sloane was incredibly gentle. So patient.

She stayed up with me late into the night just to walk me through it." He shot me a sickeningly understanding look. "Hayes, please don't throw a tantrum over this.

And packing your bags to run away? That is just unnecessary." "Sloane already works herself to the bone.

Don't add to her stress…" Every twisted, gaslighting word hit me like a bucket of toxic sludge. And Sloane? She just stood two feet away, her face an unreadable mask of ice.

She didn't open her mouth. Not a single syllable. Her dead silence was all the confirmation I needed. She was endorsing his little performance.

To her, I was just a hysterical brat throwing a pathetic runway stunt for attention.

Another laugh scraped its way up my throat, sharp, ragged, and dripping with pure contempt. "Asher." I dragged the vowels out, my stare dragging over him like a razor blade slicing him down to the bone. "You have been on the payroll for three months now, right?

And you still need the billionaire CEO of the company to stay up all night, holding your hand to fix a basic project proposal?" "You should probably just wire your paycheck back into her personal account." My voice barely carried over a whisper, but it cracked through the air like a backhand across his jaw. "If I were you, I would be too deeply embarrassed to cash it.

Three months in, zero competence.

Instead of asking a senior rep for help, you deliberately siphon off the CEO's personal time." "It rains, and instead of buying a fourdollar umbrella, you stand shivering outside the lobby until, shocker, you magically intercept Sloane's private car." "Even when we took a vacation, you managed to trigger a crisis with sniperlike precision.

You suddenly forget how to draft a pitch.

You scramble the itinerary." "Hell, even when your cheap apartment springs a leak and blows a fuse, your first instinct is to dial the CEO of a megacorporation?" I ripped my gaze off him and pinned it straight onto Sloane's frozen features. "Tell me, Asher, are you a grown man or a giant toddler in a suit?

Or are you seriously trying to tell me that in a city of millions, Sloane is the only contact in your phone?" Chapter 3 Asher's face drained of color.

His eyes went wide, playing the wrongfully accused victim to perfection. "Hayes, you've crossed a line!" Sloane finally snapped out of her freeze.

She stepped forward, physically shielding the shivering Asher behind her back.

She patted his shoulder, exactly like you'd comfort a trembling stray dog. "He just joined the corporate world.

It's perfectly normal that he's still learning the ropes." "Aren't we supposed to guide him?" She shot me a look dripping with condemnation. "When did you become so damn vicious?" Right on cue, a muffled, pathetic little sob slipped out from behind her.

The sound scraped against the dead silence of the entryway like fingernails on a chalkboard. I locked my stare onto Sloane's eyes. "I've always been this way.

Did you just meet me today?" My gaze dragged across her face—a face that felt foreign now—before snapping straight down to that key.

The key to the home that was supposed to be ours. "The key to this house…" My voice scraped out of my throat, carrying a microscopic tremor I didn't even know I had in me. "You just handed it over to him?

Just like that?" Sloane's spine snapped rigid. I let out a hollow, gutwrenching laugh. I gripped the handle of my suitcase and turned my back on her.

When we were broke and clawing our way up, this place was our first real sanctuary in the city. Our impenetrable fortress. Now?

She had left the front gates wide open for a parasite.

I pulled up the collar of my jacket and walked straight out into the freezing midnight wind, letting the biting cold seep straight through my bones.

I headed to a backup apartment I kept under my name. It was barren, but at least it was clean. No overpriced velvet sofa we picked out together.

No suffocating lavender diffusers she obsessed over. Zero trace of Sloane anywhere. Perfect. I flipped open my laptop. The harsh blue light washed over my pale face.

My fingers hammered out my official resignation letter. Not a single second of hesitation. Less than a minute later, my phone vibrated. It was the HR Director.

Her voice came through the speaker, thick with nervous probing. "Hayes, about this resignation… Does Sloane know?" A polite, deadinside smile pulled at my lips. "She knows.

Just process the paperwork." The HR Director exhaled a heavy breath of relief. She instantly pivoted to excited gossip. "Why the sudden exit, anyway?

Is Sloane launching a new subsidiary and putting you at the helm?" I paused, staring out at the pitchblack skyline. "Sure.

Let's go with that." Because from this second forward, I was the only one taking the helm of my own life. Total exhaustion dragged me under for two straight days.

I crashed onto the mattress and blacked out. When my eyes finally snapped open again, blinding morning sunlight was slicing right through the blinds. Muscle memory took over.

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and tapped open Instagram. A massive photo carousel immediately assaulted my feed. A corporate retreat.

The first shot showed the entire team clustered around a massive barbecue grill, laughing their heads off.

Sloane stood dead center, looking untouchable in a customtailored, starkwhite tracksuit. She stuck out from the crowd like absolute royalty.

And plastered right beside her was Asher. He was decked out in some neon designer athletic gear, strutting around like a peacock desperate for attention.

He practically radiated obnoxious, youthful energy. My thumb froze over the screen. Without thinking, I tapped the photo to zoom in. Chapter 4 One photo. Two. Three.

Wherever Sloane stood, Asher was glued to her side like a stagefive clinger.

In the main group photo, the entire team had silently agreed to cluster them in the middle, making them look like a match made in corporate heaven.

I stared at Asher's ridiculously smug face on my screen and let out a dry scoff. If you didn't know any better, you wouldn't think he was just some junior assistant.

You'd think he was the goddamn owner of the company. The phone buzzed hard against my palm. The screen lit up with a message from Sloane.

A picture of barbecue, slices of meat sizzling on the grill. Just looking at the plating, it was obviously Asher's handiwork. Sloane wouldn't even know how to turn on a stove.

In the past, I was the one who did all of that. A text bubble popped up right beneath the photo. [ The barbecue smells amazing.

Whenever you're done being mad, let's go hiking and get some. Your cooking is still the best.

Stop sulking and hurry back to the office. ] Her tone was infuriatingly casual, treating me like a toddler throwing a harmless tantrum.

I stared at the screen, my fingertips icecold. I pressed down on her contact profile. Delete Contact. Confirm.

The execution was flawless, like snuffing out the last pathetic flicker of a dying flame. I ordered an Uber out to the suburbs, to the foster home run by Chester.

The man who had taken both of us in when we had nothing. That place was our only real anchor. Chester looked older, his shoulders hunched further under the weight of time.

When he saw me, his deeply lined face lit up with pure surprise. "Hayes, what are you doing here?

I thought the company had you swamped?" I swallowed down the acid rising in my throat and forced a smile. "Just missed you, that's all. Figured I'd come check in.

How's your health holding up?" Before Chester could even get a word out, the screen door to the back porch squeaked open. Two silhouettes stepped into the living room.

All the blood rushed straight out of my head. It was Sloane. And glued right to her side was Asher.

When Asher's eyes landed on me, he didn't even bother to hide the predatory smirk flashing in his pupils. "Oh wow, Hayes, you're here too?" His fake surprise dripped with absolute gloating.

Chester looked back and forth between us, utter confusion swimming in his cloudy eyes.

Sloane stepped forward, relaxed, practically radiating the confidence of someone holding all the cards. "I figured you would run off to hide here.

I came specifically to find you." That only made Chester more confused.

He turned to Sloane, his bluntness cutting right through the tension. "Then why did you tell me earlier that Hayes couldn't come because he was buried in work?" The air in the room turned to concrete.

A microexpression of stiffness cracked across Sloane's face.

But she recovered in a millisecond, calmly tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "We got into a little fight, and he blocked my number." She let out a dramatic sigh, her tone thick with forced indulgence. "I just didn't want to worry you." My stare sharpened into a blade, pinning Asher straight to the wall.

My voice dropped ten degrees. "Who gave you permission to bring him here?" Asher instantly flipped the switch, pulling out his signature terrified, victimized puppydog look.

Sloane's brow furrowed.

Absolute impatience was written all over her face. "He meant well." Her voice floated through the air, infuriatingly light. "When he heard I was driving out to see the man who raised us just to track you down, he insisted on tagging along.

Said he was worried about my safety." She actually let out a soft chuckle, practically melting with fondness for the guy. "He's just an anxious little boy.

What kind of danger could I possibly run into at the place I grew up in?" Chapter 5 A hollow, freezing scoff ripped out of my chest. She knew.

She fully knew this was where we grew up. The home of Chester, the man who took in two dirtpoor orphans. This was ground zero. Where we met.

Where we bled for each other just to survive!

And she just marched right in, parading a parasite who was actively trying to sleep with her, stomping all over the only sanctuary we had left.

She explicitly brought him here to shove him in my face. A flex? A power play? Acid burned straight through my rationality. The blood pounded in my ears, deafening.

I stepped back, physically repulsed. "Sloane." My voice was raw, grinding out every single syllable. "Take him. And get the hell out." Sloane's expression finally snapped shut.

The relaxed, untouchable mask shattered. "Are you quite done?" Her voice was pure ice. "Since when did you become so damn volatile? Just snapping at people for absolutely no reason?

Asher was just trying to be nice. Are you seriously going to throw a jealous fit over this?" A jealous fit? Unbelievable.

She actually convinced herself I was just throwing a petty tantrum over another guy. My vision swam with red.

I grabbed the nearest fruit basket and gift boxes I had brought for Chester.

My muscles coiled tight, and I hurled them straight at the two of them with every ounce of strength I had. "Get out