His Betrayal Unleashed Her True Power

Name: His Betrayal Unleashed Her True Power
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Gavin

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For five years, I was the ghost in the machine, the secret architect of my boyfriend Coleton' s brilliant career. I was "Aura," the anonymous creator of our company's billion-dollar software, and I used my hidden influence to make him the star project lead in a new city 1,500 miles away. I did it all for us, for the future we were supposed to build together. But when I finally transferred to his office to surprise him, I found him wrapped up with his new assistant, Kyra-the same girl I' d seen laughing on the back of his motorcycle in a video just days before. He called her his "climbing partner," a friend, nothing more. Then, she made a mistake that cost our company millions. When I confronted her, Coleton didn't hold her accountable. He defended her. In front of the entire executive floor, he turned on me, blaming me for her failure. "If you can't handle the pressure here," he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt, "maybe you should just go back to headquarters." The man whose entire life I had built was firing me to protect another woman. Just as my world shattered, the elevator doors chimed. Our CTO stepped out, his eyes taking in my tear-streaked face and Coleton's furious one. He looked straight at my boyfriend, his voice dangerously quiet. "You have the audacity to speak to the owner of this company in that tone?"

Betrayal Love triangle Romance Workplace Hidden identities

Chapter 10

09-29 15:42

Chapter 1

I did it all for us, for the future we were supposed to build together.

But when I finally transferred to his office to surprise him, I found him wrapped up with his new assistant, Kyra-the same girl I' d seen laughing on the back of his motorcycle in a video just days before.

He called her his "climbing partner," a friend, nothing more.

Then, she made a mistake that cost our company millions. When I confronted her, Coleton didn't hold her accountable. He defended her. In front of the entire executive floor, he turned on me, blaming me for her failure.

"If you can't handle the pressure here," he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt, "maybe you should just go back to headquarters."

The man whose entire life I had built was firing me to protect another woman.

Just as my world shattered, the elevator doors chimed. Our CTO stepped out, his eyes taking in my tear-streaked face and Coleton's furious one.

He looked straight at my boyfriend, his voice dangerously quiet.

"You have the audacity to speak to the owner of this company in that tone?"

Chapter 1

Erika POV:

The two-year, fifteen-hundred-mile gap between my boyfriend and me was closed not by a plane ticket, but by a fifteen-second video on my phone.

The office was dead quiet, the kind of crushing silence that only exists at two in the morning. The only sounds were the low hum of my computer and the frantic thumping of my own heart against my ribs. I was waiting for a massive data package to compile, a process that could take anywhere from five minutes to an hour. To kill time, I did what I always did: I scrolled.

My thumb flicked mindlessly past photos of friends' babies and Caribbean vacations until it stopped on a video. A girl I didn' t know, her face bright and animated, was laughing into the camera. She was vibrant, with a spray of freckles across her nose and a messy ponytail of dark hair. She was perched on the back of a motorcycle, her arms wrapped tightly around the driver.

The driver' s back was to the camera, but I knew that leather jacket. I' d bought it for him for our third anniversary.

The girl leaned forward, her lips close to the driver' s ear, shouting over the roar of the engine. The wind whipped her hair across her face, but her voice was surprisingly clear. "Race you to the top, Ruiz! Loser buys tacos!"

The caption below the video was a string of emojis-a rock-climbing wall, a taco, and a winking face-followed by the hashtag #climbingpartner.

Ruiz.

My breath hitched. My entire world narrowed to the small, glowing screen in my hand. He turned his head slightly, just for a second, and the streetlight caught the sharp line of his jaw.

Coleton.

My fingers felt numb as I tapped his contact. The phone rang once, twice, three times before he picked up.

"Hey, babe. What' s up? It' s late." His voice was muffled, distant.

Behind him, I could hear a cacophony of noise-loud music, people shouting, the clinking of glasses. It sounded like a party.

"Where are you?" I asked, my own voice sounding hollow in the sterile quiet of my office.

"Oh, just out with some of the guys from the gym," he said, a little too quickly. "We just wrapped up a big project, celebrating a bit."

A woman' s laugh, high-pitched and familiar, echoed close to his phone. It was the same laugh from the video.

"Coleton," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "Who are you with?"

"Just the team, Erika. Don' t worry. I' m heading home soon." His words were meant to be reassuring, but they felt like sandpaper scraping against my raw nerves.

I hung up without another word. The drive home was a blur. I parked the car in my designated spot, the engine ticking as it cooled, and I watched the video again. And again. And again.

The jacket was definitely his. The helmet hanging from his handlebars was the one I' d insisted he buy. I swiped over to the comments section.

A user named "ClimbLife" had written, "You two are so cute together!"

The girl from the video, whose profile name was Kyra Boyd, had replied with a series of laughing emojis. "He' s my best climbing partner! Pushes me to be better!"

I clicked on her profile. It was public. Photo after photo of her scaling sheer rock faces, her body lean and strong. And in at least a dozen of them, there was Coleton. Standing beside her at the base of a cliff, laughing with a group of people I' d never seen before, his arm slung casually over her shoulder in a group shot.

He used to love climbing. We' d gone together, back in college, before my career took off and his ambition sent him to Austin two years ago. He said he' d been too busy to go since he moved. He' d told me he spent most of his weekends working.

He was in a new city, I told myself. He was allowed to make new friends. It was healthy. But my knowledge of his life, his real life, was a complete blank. A two-year-long void filled with vague reassurances and promises of a future that felt increasingly distant.

That was it. The thread of my patience, stretched thin over two years of late-night calls and missed holidays, finally snapped. The transfer I had meticulously planned for next month, the one I' d worked eighteen-hour days to earn, wasn' t happening next month. It was happening now.

Twenty-four hours later, I was standing in the gleaming lobby of the Omni Corp tower in Austin. My carry-on suitcase stood beside me, a silent testament to my impulsive flight.

"Erika Larson!" the receptionist greeted me with a wide, welcoming smile. "Mr. Moreno told us you' d be transferring down soon, but we weren' t expecting you today! It' s such an honor. The 'Aura' framework is legendary. Coleton must be thrilled you' re finally here."

I offered a tight-lipped smile. Coleton didn' t know I was coming. "Is he in his office?"

"He is. Just took his new assistant up. Let me just buzz you up to the executive floor."

The elevator ride felt like an eternity. The polished steel walls reflected a distorted version of myself-a woman who had sacrificed sleep, weekends, and time with her boyfriend to build a bridge across fifteen hundred miles. I' d done it all for the dream we' d shared: the corner office for him, a shared life for us. I was the silent architect of his success, the anonymous creator of 'Aura,' the very software framework our entire company was built on. He thought I was just a damn good software architect. He had no idea I was the ghost in the machine, the one who had quietly recommended him for the Austin project lead, the one who had convinced our CTO, Edison Moreno, that he was the right man for the job.

I was here to finally stand beside him, not behind him.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.

And there she was.

Standing outside Coleton' s office, holding a tablet, was the girl from the video. Kyra Boyd.

The receptionist' s words echoed in my head. His new assistant.

She looked up, her smile faltering for a fraction of a second as she took in my suitcase.

I walked toward her, my heels clicking on the marble floor. "Hi," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I' m Erika Larson. I' m the new software architect transferring from the headquarters." I extended a hand.

She took it, her grip firm, her eyes darting from my face to the closed door of Coleton' s office. "Kyra Boyd. Coleton' s new project assistant."

The way she said his name-so familiar, so easy-made my stomach clench. It was in that moment I knew. I knew this was more than just a friendship. Her face was the same vibrant, laughing face from the video, but up close, her eyes held a spark of something possessive.

I recognized her voice instantly. "I saw your video," I said, my voice dropping. "The one on the motorcycle."

Her friendly demeanor vanished, replaced by a cool, appraising stare.

"Erika?"

Coleton' s voice came from behind me.

I turned around slowly. He stood in the doorway of his office, a file in his hand. The hope I had clung to during the entire flight, the desperate belief that this was all a misunderstanding, evaporated.

His eyes, the warm brown eyes I had loved for five years, were wide. But not with joy. Not with love.

There was only pure, unadulterated shock.