Chapter 3 — New Scars, Old Wounds

Charlie

Charlie Hayes sat in her minimalist office, the faint hum of the city muffled by the thick glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Her hands hovered above the keyboard, motionless, as the cursor blinked on the blank document in front of her—a maddening, rhythmic taunt. She had arrived early, hoping the monotony of legal briefs and contracts would drown out the storm in her head. Instead, she had fallen into a trap of her own making, scrolling through social media posts she had no business looking at.

There it was. The photo that had been haunting her all morning. Alex Carter and Emily Tran, seated at an elegant rooftop table with the city skyline blurred artfully behind them. Emily’s sleek black hair gleamed in the candlelight, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling with affection. The caption below the image, courtesy of some influencer desperate for engagement, read: *“Power couple goals! Alex Carter’s new flame is as stunning as she is sharp. #LoveWins.”*

Charlie’s jaw tightened. Her chest constricted with a bitterness she couldn’t quite suppress as she slammed the laptop shut. The sound echoed in the cold sterility of her office. Her engraved fountain pen lay beside her legal pad, its gold accents catching the early morning sunlight. She picked it up, running her thumb over the delicate initials, *C.H.* The smooth weight of the pen had always been a source of comfort, a reminder of how far she’d come. But today, even that wasn’t enough to ground her.

The humiliation was relentless. She’d faced down arrogant opposing counsel, endured withering judicial glares, and clawed her way up in a profession that treated ambition in women as a flaw. But this? This was different. This was raw and deeply personal. The kind of exposure no courtroom training could prepare her for.

Her thoughts spiraled back to the wedding day—the weight of the dress, the cloying scent of lilies she hadn’t wanted but had agreed to because Alex had insisted, and the endless rehearsals for a perfect day that had imploded in five words. *I can’t do this. I’m sorry.*

Her grip tightened on the pen as she tried to shove the memory aside. She hadn’t cried in front of anyone that day. Not her parents, not her friends, not even Sophia. But now, knowing Alex hadn’t just moved on but had practically sprinted into the arms of someone new, it burned in ways she couldn’t articulate.

*Emily Tran.* The name rolled through her mind with a bitterness she hated herself for. She knew little about Emily beyond the curated perfection of her online presence. A PR professional with a talent for crafting narratives, Emily seemed to embody everything Alex would want in a partner. Social media had already anointed her as his “perfect match,” a label that stung more than Charlie cared to admit.

It wasn’t just jealousy—not entirely. It was the ease with which Alex had rewritten their story. He had cast Emily as his new leading lady while relegating Charlie to the role of the bitter ex. And the world had eaten it up. She could practically hear the whispers: *Cold-hearted lawyer gets dumped and replaced by someone younger, prettier, and more likable.*

She set the pen down and leaned back in her chair, trying to shake the image loose. Her eyes fell to the stack of documents she had been avoiding. She had spent the night pouring over Apex Ventures’ public filings, initially out of spite—a petty attempt to prove to herself that Alex’s charm was all surface. But what she’d found had been unsettling. Payments that didn’t add up. Shell companies with no clear purpose. Subtle discrepancies that would have gone unnoticed by anyone less meticulous.

The knock at her door startled her. She straightened in her chair, smoothing the legal pad and pen into precise alignment before calling, “Come in.”

Sophia Martinez strode in like a burst of color in an otherwise grayscale world. Her bright yellow scarf draped over her shoulders, and she carried a steaming coffee cup in one hand. The vibrant energy she radiated was a stark contrast to the sterile monochrome of the law office.

“Morning, boss lady,” Sophia chirped, sinking into the chair across from Charlie’s desk. “You look like you could use this—or maybe something stronger. Your call. No judgment.”

Charlie managed a thin smile. “It’s nine in the morning, Sophia. Even I have standards.”

Sophia leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “Okay, spill. What’s with the face? And don’t even try to say ‘I’m fine.’ I can smell the storm clouds from here.”

Charlie hesitated. Vulnerability wasn’t something she indulged in, even with Sophia. But the words tumbled out before she could stop them. “He’s already dating someone. Emily Tran.”

Sophia’s eyes widened. “Wait, *already*? Like, *now*? Oh, that is some next-level trash behavior.”

“It’s all over social media,” Charlie said tightly. “Photos, hashtags, the works. Apparently, they’re a ‘power couple.’” She made air quotes and rolled her eyes for emphasis.

Sophia’s expression darkened. “Disgusting. And by the way, ‘power couple’ is just code for two rich jerks who look smug in photos. You’re better off without him.”

Charlie wanted to believe that. She really did. But the ache in her chest wouldn’t let her. “The narrative’s already out there,” she said, her voice low. “Cold-hearted lawyer gets dumped by her charming fiancé and replaced by someone younger, prettier, and more likable. I can practically hear the whispers.”

Sophia reached across the desk, grabbing Charlie’s hand. “Screw the whispers. You’re Charlie freaking Hayes. You’ve stared down corporate sharks, for crying out loud. Alex and his PR Barbie don’t get to define you.”

Charlie squeezed her friend’s hand briefly before pulling away. “Thanks, Sophia. Really. But it’s not just about them. It’s about me. I keep thinking… maybe I missed something. Some sign, some—”

“Nope,” Sophia interrupted, her tone firm. “Don’t even go there. This isn’t about you missing signs. This is about *him* being a coward and a jerk. Let’s keep the blame where it belongs, shall we?”

Charlie nodded, though her mind was already wandering. She thought of the spreadsheets again—the numbers that didn’t add up, the payments that went nowhere. What had started as a spiteful distraction had turned into something else. Something bigger. The inconsistencies weren’t just Alex being careless; they hinted at something deeper. Something rotten.

“Earth to Charlie,” Sophia said, snapping her fingers. “You’re doing that thing again. The one where you retreat into your brain palace and plot the downfall of your enemies. What are you scheming?”

Charlie hesitated, then deflected. “Nothing. Just trying to focus on work.”

Sophia didn’t look convinced, but she let it go. “Fine. But I’m not letting you wallow in this office all day. You need coffee, carbs, and maybe a little harmless people-watching to clear your head. Sequoia Café. Noon. Be there.”

“I’ll think about it,” Charlie said, knowing full well she’d say yes.

As Sophia left, the office felt oppressively quiet again. Charlie picked up her engraved pen, her thumb tracing the initials. The spreadsheets loomed large in her mind, their implications unsettling. Maybe this wasn’t just about proving Alex’s charm was hollow. Maybe it wasn’t even about revenge.

*Maybe this is about justice,* she thought, the idea sparking something electric in her chest. She wasn’t ready to admit it yet—not to herself, and certainly not to anyone else. But the thought lingered, steady and insistent.

For now, she had work to do.