Vincent Rothvale's world didn't end in fire and destruction, nor in a zombie apocalypse or a massive tsunami. For him, it ended in silence, buried beneath manipulated contracts and the betrayal of the one person he had trusted most.
That was the stark truth as he walked down the cold, polished marble corridors of the Imperial Hotel. Each step echoed through the empty hallway, the sound hollow and sharp, like a funeral march bouncing off the grand walls.
Just yesterday, this place had been a monument to his success. The grand hall was filled with excitement, his name spoken in admiration, splashed across news headlines and television screens.
Vincent Rothvale, the New Market King – A Monopoly Deal in AI and Agriculture That Will Reshape the Country's Economy.
His company, Rothvale Enterprises, had been on the verge of securing a multi-billion-dollar deal. A monopoly in AI-driven agriculture, a project that would redefine the industry and cement his legacy.
This deal wasn't just business. It was his mark on the world, the result of relentless work, sleepless nights, and personal sacrifice.
But today, the headlines told a different story. A brutal truth that cut through him like a blade.
The Fall of Rothvale Enterprises – A Failed Deal, A Bankrupt Company.
His long-time rival, Pearson Rush of Universe Enterprises, had taken the contract from him. Vincent knew exactly how it had happened, the careful web of deception that had been spun to orchestrate his downfall.
As he approached the grand hall, where Pearson's company was celebrating their victory, he hesitated for a moment. He stood at the ornate entrance, unsure if he should step inside and face the humiliation or turn away, disappearing into the anonymity of the city.
Inside, guests dressed in expensive suits and designer gowns glanced toward the door. A hush fell over the crowd as they noticed him standing there, watching him with a mix of pity and curiosity.
Vincent had already been dressed for this night. The black suit he wore wasn't meant for this event. It was meant for his own celebration.
The person who had helped him pick it out, the one who had encouraged him, was the person he had loved the most. The only person he had truly trusted.
The murmurs from the crowd pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Poor Vincent," someone whispered, though the voice held no real sympathy.
"All that effort and he still lost everything."
Another chuckled, dismissive and cold. "He should have known. That contract was never meant for someone like him."
Vincent clenched his jaw, letting their words pass over him without effect. He wasn't here for them. He was here for her.
You're all wrong. I didn't lose because my company was too small.
His eyes fixed on the brightly lit stage at the far end of the hall.
Vincent stood frozen, staring at the woman before him. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing striking golden eyes that shone under the grand hall's lighting.
She wore an elegant black gown, the fabric hugging her figure, tailored to perfection. Her laughter rang out, light and refined, and she lifted her hand—encased in a long black silk glove that stretched past her elbow—to cover her mouth in a gesture of amusement.
She was not wearing the dress he had bought for her. That simple yet elegant design now seemed insignificant.
The gown and jewelry she wore looked far more expensive, custom-made, meant for someone in a much higher class. He remembered the moment she had stopped in front of a boutique's display, admiring the dress now draped over her figure, playfully asking him to buy it for her.
He hadn't been able to afford it then. All his money had been tied up in securing the deal that would define his career.
The man standing beside her was undoubtedly the one who had purchased it for her. He was young, sharp-featured, carrying an effortless air of authority. His suit was pristine, tailored with precision, and he spoke with a group of powerful businessmen, exuding confidence. Vincent knew who he was. Pearson Rush.
Seeing her with him, standing at his side, sent a cold fury simmering through Vincent, pushing aside the murmurs of the crowd. He ignored everything around him and stepped forward, walking directly into the grand hall, his eyes locked on her.
The moment guests noticed his approach, they instinctively moved aside, parting like waves. A ripple of movement spread through the room. Some whispered, others watched in anticipation, eager to witness the inevitable confrontation.
Selena Hilton. Her name echoed in his mind with every step he took toward the stage.
His lover. His confidante. His manager. The only person he had trusted.
And also, a traitor.
For years, Selena had been his salvation, his unwavering support, his greatest motivation. He had built everything with her in mind, driven by the need to give her the best life possible, to create something worthy of her.
She had been by his side through every sleepless night while he painstakingly designed the AI-driven agriculture program. She had helped him shape business strategies, forge crucial connections with government officials and tech leaders.
She had even played a key role in securing the tender for the contract, the one that was supposed to propel Rothvale Enterprises into a new era of success.
But in the end, she had sold everything—months of work, sleepless nights, and every financial sacrifice—to his fiercest competitor. Worse, Pearson Rush had the resources to not only buy Vincent's core work but also to develop additional AI and agriculture programs, turning the contract into a complete, unbeatable package.
The deal had slipped through his fingers, landing straight into Pearson's grasp. And with that, Vincent had lost everything. His funding had come from a series of high-stakes bank loans, with everything he owned tied up as collateral.
Now, with the contract gone, so was everything else.
She had caused it all. The woman he had once loved stood beside his rival, radiating confidence and success, untouched by the destruction she had left behind.
And then she noticed him. And she smiled.
That faint, barely visible curve of her lips sent a fresh wave of fury through him. He couldn't stop the burning question in his mind.
Why had she betrayed him?
As Vincent neared the stage, she shifted slightly, stepping away from the group of businessmen. Tilting her head, she held her champagne glass close to her chest, her golden eyes locked onto his.
"You," Vincent said, his voice rough, thick with anger and disbelief. "You stole my work and sold it to Universe Enterprises."
Selena let out a soft laugh, crisp and edged with amusement.
"Oh, darling," she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness, "I only helped more people gain access to the program. But really, what can I say? You were always meant to lose."
She took a slow sip of her champagne, never breaking eye contact.
Vincent's blood boiled. His hands clenched tightly, his nails digging into his palms.
"Why?" He shouted, his voice echoing through the hall, now eerily silent. "After everything, after all the years we spent building this together, why did you do it?"
Selena sighed, a dramatic show of impatience. She took a step forward, moving closer, speaking in a whisper only he could hear.
"You will never understand the meaning of power and money."
Then she straightened, lifting her chin slightly, her golden eyes cold, detached. "You were never meant to have it all."
Her words hit him like a blow, a punch straight to the gut. He had given her everything—his trust, his love, his dreams.
And she had discarded it all, not for love, but for something far simpler. A man who could offer her more wealth, more connections, more power. The realization burned through him, leaving nothing but hollow, bitter rage.
"You're wrong," he said, his voice shaking, raw with emotion. "I built that program. I created it from nothing. And you—"
"Enough," Pearson cut in, his tone calm, dismissive. He stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Selena's back. "You've lost, Vincent. Go home before you embarrass yourself any further."
He smirked, the expression taunting, triumphant. Then, with deliberate ease, he wrapped his arm around Selena's waist, lifting his champagne glass in a silent toast.
Vincent barely had time to react before he felt hands gripping his arms. Security guards, answering a silent signal from Pearson, moved in quickly. Their hold was firm, unyielding.
Without a word, they dragged him away, their movements brisk and indifferent.
The guests watched, some with smug satisfaction, their faces reflecting the schadenfreude of witnessing a downfall. Others looked on with a detached pity, as if observing a tragic play.
Even the security staff, mere employees, treated him like garbage, a piece of refuse to be discarded. He was shoved out of the hotel, forced into the biting cold of the street where freshly fallen snow blanketed the ground.
He had no chance to grab his thin coat, left behind in his shock.
Vincent stood outside, the cold biting through his thin suit as snow gathered around him. The guests inside watched, some with smug satisfaction, enjoying the spectacle of his downfall. Others looked on with detached pity, observing the scene like it was nothing more than a tragic play.
Even the security staff, just employees following orders, treated him as if he were nothing. Without hesitation, they shoved him out of the hotel, forcing him into the freezing street.
The freshly fallen snow covered the ground, untouched except for the sharp imprint of his footsteps.
He had no chance to grab his coat, left behind in the shock of it all.
The icy wind cut through him, but it was nothing compared to the deeper cold settling in his chest. He turned back, pounding on the elegant glass doors, demanding some acknowledgment, some reaction. But the guards inside remained indifferent, their faces blank, their stance unwavering.
One of them, with a final display of contempt, tossed his old coat toward him. It landed in a crumpled heap at his feet, a pathetic reminder of what he had lost.
Vincent picked it up, clutching it tightly as he stood alone in the swirling snow. The city lights blurred around him, distorted by the unshed tears stinging his eyes.
How had it come to this?
Just yesterday, he had been on top of the world. A visionary, a king.
Now, he was nothing. A bankrupt man with a broken heart, a shattered dream, and the crushing realization that everything he had believed in had been a lie.