Dumping the Trash

Ethan changed the passcode of our $10 million dream penthouse to his female assistant's birthday. It happened to be the exact day of our seventh anniversary.

When the door clicked open from the inside, Chloe Miller was wearing my signature silk robe, holding the customdesigned wedding bands I had spent a month sourcing.

Panic flashed across her face as she scrambled to hide the rings behind her back. "Summer, please don't get the wrong idea.

I was just helping Ethan check the size." Ethan walked out of the bathroom, his hair still damp, his forehead immediately creasing into a deep frown. "Why are you here unannounced?" His voice carried a sharp edge of annoyance.

I looked at the faint, fresh hickey on his neck. My heart sank straight to the bottom of my chest. "This is my apartment.

Since when do I need permission to come here?" I shot back. "Can you stop being so dramatic?" Ethan sighed, acting as if nothing was wrong. "Chloe’s apartment flooded, and she had nowhere else to go in the middle of the night.

I just let her crashed here for a few days. What’s the big deal?" A $10 million penthouse. I hadn't even spent a single night in it, yet he gave it to his assistant.

He had even effortlessly changed the passcode to her birthday.

I picked up the heavy fabric shears from the coffee table and walked over to the haute couture wedding dress hanging in the corner—a dress I had designed myself and spent six months handsewing. "Summer!

What the hell are you doing?!" Ethan yelled.

With a swift, cold slash, I cut the shears straight through the center of the gown’s delicate train. "Since the man is trash, there's no point in keeping the dress.

This wedding is off." "Summer, have you completely lost your mind?" Ethan grabbed my wrist, his grip painfully tight. "It's just a dress!

Do you really have to throw a hysterical fit over this?" "She's right, Summer," Chloe chimed in from the side, looking like a frightened puppy. "Ethan has been pulling allnighters to get the company listed on the stock market.

You shouldn't stress him out like this." I turned my gaze to Chloe.

Her face was young, plump with collagen, radiating a calculated aura of innocent vulnerability. "Did I ask for your opinion?" I said coldly.

Chloe's eyes welled with tears instantly, and she shrank back behind Ethan.

Ethan immediately shielded her, glaring at me. "Summer, when did you become such a bitter, crazy psycho?" A crazy psycho.

I had spent five years helping him build his startup from scratch. To save him design fees, I pulled allnighters drawing blueprints until my stomach bled.

To secure venture capital for him, I drank myself into alcohol poisoning at investor dinners. Now that he was at the top, I was nothing but a "crazy psycho" in his eyes.

I violently shook off his grip. "Ethan, we're done." With that, I turned around and walked out. "Summer!

If you walk out of this door today, don't you dare think about coming back!" Ethan roared behind me. I didn't look back.

Even a second of hesitation would be an insult to the seven years of my youth I had wasted on him. When I reached the lobby, the cold night wind cleared my head instantly.

I pulled out my phone and opened WhatsApp.

On paper, I was the Chief Creative Officer of Ethan's firm, but to keep a low profile, I had always used the alias "S." Except for Ethan and a few founding partners, no one in the company knew S was actually me.

I immediately left the main company group chat. Then, I logged into the cloud server and encrypted every single core design file I had ever created, locking them down completely.

After finishing all this, I hailed an Uber and went back to my own studio apartment. The moment I stepped inside, my phone started buzzing. It was a Snapchat message from Chloe.

Summer, I'm so, so sorry. I really didn't know the passcode was my birthday.

Ethan just thinks I'm clumsy and can't remember complex numbers, so he changed it to make things easier for me. Please don't be mad at him because of me.

I'll pack my bags and move out tomorrow. I could smell the rancid scent of her victimplaying right through the screen.

I took a screenshot of her message and posted it directly to Instagram. The caption read: "A homewrecker who loves playing the victim. If you like picking up trash, just say so.

Stop acting so pathetic." After posting it, I blocked both of their numbers. Time to sleep.

The next morning, I was woken up by a barrage of phone calls. Abby from the front desk and several project managers were calling me one after another.

I picked up Abby’s call. "Summer, oh my god, it's a disaster!

Ethan is throwing a massive tantrum in his office!" "What happened?" I asked calmly. "The core blueprints for the Star Bay Plaza project won't open!

The server says the files are locked!" I let out a cold laugh. Of course they were locked. Those designs were my blood, sweat, and tears. Why should I let them take the credit? "Oh.

Tell him to figure it out himself." "But the pitch meeting with the client is this afternoon! Ethan is literally throwing chairs!" I hung up.

Less than five minutes later, my doorbell was buzzed violently. I checked the security camera. It was Ethan.

His eyes were bloodshot, his tie was loose, and he looked completely disheveled.

I opened the door but blocked the entrance, keeping him out. "Summer, unlock the server files right now!" he roared at me. "Those are my designs.

Why should I?" "Stop being so incredibly petty! Think about the company's profits!" "Your profits have nothing to do with me anymore," I said, looking at him with dead eyes.

Ethan took a deep breath, trying to force down his rage. "If you unlock the files, I'll overlook what happened last night." "I'll change the passcode back immediately, and I'll make Chloe pack her things today." "The wedding is still on.

We'll get married next month as planned." He spoke in a highandmighty, patronizing tone. As if marrying me was some grand act of charity.

I laughed out loud. "Ethan, do you honestly think I can't survive without you?" "What is that supposed to mean?" He froze. "Not only am I keeping those files locked, but I'm also going to the Star Bay pitch meeting myself this afternoon." Ethan’s face went completely pale. "Are you insane?

We've been preparing for this project for six months!" "No," I corrected him. "I prepared for this project for six months.

Alone." "Get away from my door, or I'm calling the cops for harassment." I slammed the door right in his face. From outside, I could hear him kicking the door in frustration.

Ignoring him, I walked over to my closet and picked out my sharpest, most powerful black power suit. I put on a bold, aggressive red lipstick.

Today, I was going to take back everything that belonged to me.

At 2:00 PM, at the Star Bay Plaza Bidding Center. Clad in fourinch stilettos, I walked into the grand lobby. From a distance, I saw Ethan and Chloe standing in the corner.

Chloe was holding a hastily printed paper document, looking like she was on the verge of tears. "Ethan, the details on these prints are incomplete.

If the client asks, I won't know how to answer." Ethan tugged at his tie in frustration. "Just wing it! We just need to sell them the concept first." Wing it?

The Star Bay Plaza was a flagship state project, and the main investor was the legendary Sterling Group.

The CEO of Sterling Group, Christian Sterling, was notoriously coldblooded and ruthless. He didn't tolerate even a speck of incompetence. Trying to BS Christian Sterling?

They were begging for professional execution. I walked straight to the VIP reception desk of Sterling Group. "Hi, I'm here to see Christian Sterling," I told the receptionist.

The receptionist blinked in surprise. "Do you have an appointment, ma'am?" "Tell him S is here.

And I brought the complete, uncensored blueprints for Star Bay." In less than three minutes, the receptionist politely ushered me into the private VIP lounge.

Sitting on the leather sofa was a man. He was impeccably dressed in a bespoke suit, his features sharp and handsome, radiating a powerful, intimidating aura.

Christian Sterling. "You're S?" He looked up, his gaze piercing. "Yes." I handed him my iPad. "This is the complete 3D model and the structural data for Star Bay." Christian took the iPad, his long fingers scrolling through the screens.

His indifferent expression slowly shifted to intense focus, and finally, a hint of genuine admiration flashed in his eyes. "Flawless design," he said, setting the iPad down and looking at me. "But I heard S belongs to Ethan's firm." "As of five hours ago, I officially quit," I said, looking him dead in the eye. "The full copyright of these designs belongs solely to me." A cold, dark smirk played on Christian's lips. "How do you want to play this, Ms.

Brooks?" "I want to sign a direct contract with Sterling Group under my own independent studio." "If you can help me crush Ethan's firm at the pitch today, I'll personally grant you an extra three percent of the royalties," Christian said smoothly. "Deal." I extended my hand.

Christian gripped my hand, his hold firm and warm. "Pleasure doing business with you, Summer." The bidding presentation began. Ethan's company was third in line.

To my surprise, the presenter walking up to the stage was actually Chloe.

She was wearing an illfitting designer suit, trying her best to look confident in front of the massive projector screen. "Good afternoon, board members.

Our design concept is 'The Future Realm'..." She opened the slideshow, and what appeared on the screen was a messy collage of my early, discarded drafts.

To save face, Ethan had actually used my trash. Chloe was practically reading off a script, unable to explain the core structural engineering of the design.

The experts in the panel were already looking displeased. Right then, Christian spoke up in a calm, icy tone. "Ms.

Miller, please explain the loadbearing capacity of the glass curtain wall in Zone C." Chloe froze instantly.

She frantically flipped through her paper notes, sweat beads forming on her forehead. "We... we will calculate that data in the next phase..." "You dare bring a pitch to Sterling Group without even verifying the basic structural load?" Christian’s voice was cold enough to freeze water.

Ethan quickly stood up to smooth things over. "Mr. Sterling, Chloe is just a junior designer. She's a bit nervous.

The actual data is secured in our core server." "Is it?" I stood up from the front row of the guest seats. Every eye in the room instantly locked onto me.

When Ethan saw me, the color drained from his face completely. "Summer?

How did you get in here?!" I ignored him, walked straight onto the stage, and snatched the laser pointer from Chloe’s hand. "That's because the data in your core server was entirely drawn by me." The room erupted into whispers.

I plugged my flash drive into the podium computer, pulling up the original CAD files. "The metadata of this blueprint, including the creation timestamps of every single layer, predates the day Ethan’s firm even registered this project." "And that's not all."

I zoomed in on the structural map of the main tower. "Take a look at the mosaic floor patterns in the main lobby." At the very corner of the floor lines, two tiny, stylized letters were seamlessly woven into the design.

SB.

Summer Brooks. "As a designer, I always leave my personal signature in my creations." I turned around to face Ethan, whose expression was now completely lifeless. "Ethan, would you like to explain why your genius assistant, Chloe, has my initials embedded all over her design?" Dead silence fell over the room.

Chloe’s knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the floor. "No... it wasn't me! Ethan made me do it!" She threw him under the bus instantly.

Ethan’s eyes flared with rage. "Shut the hell up, Chloe!" Several industry titans in the audience shook their heads, their faces filled with pure disgust.

Christian stood up, buttoning his suit jacket. "The Sterling Group hereby announces the disqualification of Ethan's firm from all current and future projects." "Furthermore, we reserve the right to pursue legal action for commercial fraud." Ethan sank into his chair, completely paralyzed.

He was finished. In this industry, being blacklisted by Sterling Group meant immediate, permanent ruin.

I shut down the computer, pulled out my flash drive, and looked down at him. "Seven years, Ethan. Consider it charity to a dog." I walked out of the hall without looking back.

Three days later, news broke that Ethan’s company was facing a massive liquidity crisis. Having lost the Star Bay project, all the upfront capital they had poured into it was gone.

The banks began calling in their loans, and furious suppliers blocked the office doors with protest signs. Ethan was officially ruined.

Chloe fled faster than anyone, clearing out all the valuables from the $10 million penthouse overnight. She even posted an update on Instagram: "Finally saw his true colors.

Safe at last." What a joke. While I was sketching in my new studio, my phone rang. It was the building's security guard. "Ms.

Brooks, there's a man named Ethan Vance in the lobby demanding to see you.

He refuses to leave." I set my pen down. "Send him up." Ten minutes later, Ethan appeared at my office door.

He had a messy stubble, his suit was wrinkled, and he looked like a vagrant on the street.

The arrogant, highandmighty CEO was completely gone. "Summer..." He croaked, his voice incredibly hoarse. "Call me Ms.

Brooks," I said, leaning back in my chair without even looking up. A flash of humiliation crossed Ethan’s face, but he forced himself to swallow it.

Suddenly, his knees buckled, and he knelt right in front of my desk. "Summer, I was wrong!" "I am so incredibly sorry!

Chloe is a fraud—she not only stole from me, but she also sold our client list to our competitors!" "Summer, please help me! Just talk to Mr.

Sterling for me, please!" "If you help me get through this, I'll give you fifty percent of the company's shares immediately!" I watched his pathetic performance, feeling nothing but intense disgust. "Fifty percent of the shares?" I laughed. "You want me to take on fifty percent of your bankrupt company's debt?" Exposed, Ethan's face flushed red and white. "Then let's start over, okay?" He reached out, trying to grab my hand. "We have seven years of history, Summer.

You used to care about me so much." "Remember when your stomach hurt, and I drove across the city in the middle of the night just to get you medicine..." I kicked the edge of my desk, pushing my swivel chair back to avoid his touch. "Don't you dare bring up the past." My gaze turned icecold. "The Summer who would have died for you died the exact second she saw you putting my ring on another woman's finger."