15. We did lot of stuff

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Susan's P.O.V.

1 year later.

It has been a year since that disastrous evening. Someone once said that being cheated on is far worse than being the one who cheats—because the cheater already has their safety net in place, while the one who is betrayed is left with no choice but to fall, with nothing to catch them.

I fell. I crawled. I picked myself up, and I ran. That's how my breakup went.

That night, I booked the first flight home. I barely remembered how I got there, only that I rang the doorbell in the dead of night, feeling like a shattered version of myself. My dad took one look at me, and for the first time in years, he didn't scold me. Instead, he let my mom pull me into a hug, and when she finally let go, he wrapped his arms around me too. His voice was calm, warm, and almost teasing as he said, "Finally, my daughter is back."

Even now, I laugh at how he threw an 'I told you so' in my face while comforting me. Classic Dad.

We never discussed the details, but my family knows something went horribly wrong between Adrian and me—enough to end everything. I never confirmed their assumptions, never spoke the words aloud. But the truth remained: he cheated on me.

My dad gave me exactly four days to grieve. On the fifth, he marched me to the library, placed a steaming cup of tea in front of me, and said, "That's enough. Time to get your life back on track." He wasn't unkind—just firm, determined to see me rise instead of wallow. "If you're back, then be back. Take responsibility. Learn from this. And move forward."

And so, I did.

And I did just that—I immediately joined him at his headquarters in Baltimore. From day one, he made it clear to everyone that I was his successor. "You've struggled enough by staying away from the life that was always meant for you," he told me. "I refuse to put you through the same grind other families do, making their heirs crawl from junior positions to executive roles. That's not your path."

Not that I needed it anyway—I had already put in the work at Williams Corporation, gaining experience as a junior associate and assistant manager. But this was different. Here, I wasn't just another employee. I was being prepared for something much bigger, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

I threw myself into work with everything I had. Whenever I set my mind to something, I strive to be the best, and this time, it was my career. I had never worked 12-13 hours a day before, but now it became my routine. To everyone else, it looked like I maintained a normal 8-9 hour workday, but the moment I got home, I would bury myself in reports, proposals, and strategies for another 3-4 hours.

I didn't just work alongside my father—I became his shadow, observing, learning, and implementing changes that streamlined operations and boosted productivity. Of course, he had the final say in everything, but I wanted to be the force driving those decisions, the one bringing logic and innovation to the table. Every success fueled me, every challenge pushed me harder. And as the months passed, I could see the impact of my efforts—higher efficiency, better results, and a company that was growing stronger under our leadership.

My dating life, on the other hand, was practically a comedy of errors. I didn't go on dates to find someone—I went on dates to remind myself why I shouldn't. Every encounter seemed to reinforce my resolve. There was the tech CEO who thought emotional depth was a software glitch, and the Hollywood director who was more in love with his idea of woman than actual woman in front of him. Each time, I found a new reason to walk away, another confirmation that I wasn't ready—or maybe just unwilling.

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