The room seemed to grow cold instantly. Ethan Brooks blinked, his gaze darting between me and the woman next to him, who was visibly thrown off balance by my presence.
‘Wait,’ he said, raising his voice. ‘Chief Executive of what?’
His new wife, Lauren Brooks, slowly turned to him, all her confidence evaporating.
‘Hawthorne Group,’ she said quietly. ‘A technology company where I just accepted a position as vice president. Natalie Hawthorne is the majority owner.’
Ethan laughed nervously, as if the universe had decided to play a cruel joke on him.
I didn’t respond. There was no need.
Because at that moment, Lauren understood what Ethan hadn’t yet realised: the balance of power had shifted so much that he was already drowning without even feeling the water.
I watched as this realisation slowly dawned on him.
‘Do you work for her?’ he asked Lauren.
She nodded tensely:
‘Yes. And, apparently, she owns the whole company.’
His mouth opened, closed, then opened again:
‘Do you have any money?’ Since when?
I raised an eyebrow.
‘Since the day you left. Actually, no, the day before that. But don’t worry, your timing was perfect.’
Lauren looked shocked.
‘You told me she was unemployed. That she was useless.’ That she was trying to keep you a child.
I tilted my head slightly:
‘And you believed that?’
Her face flushed bright red. She looked away, unable to meet my gaze.
Ethan took a step forward:
‘Listen, we can talk this through. Maybe we misunderstood each other. I was under pressure, okay? That’s not what I meant.’
At that moment, Sophie Lane entered the room, holding Emma in her arms.
‘So you didn’t mean that you “can’t afford to support an unemployed woman”?’ she said calmly. ‘Because you made yourself very clear, Ethan.’
Lauren turned to me:
‘Miss Hawthorne… should I hand in my resignation?’
I met her gaze:
‘You’re a competent professional, Lauren. I don’t fire people for who they marry. But there will be boundaries. Ethan will never set foot in my office again. Ever.’
She nodded silently.
Ethan turned even paler and made one last attempt:
‘But I’m her father—’
‘Who left when I went into labour,’ I interrupted. ‘You’re free to apply for visitation rights through the courts. But don’t expect any special treatment.’
He stared at me:
‘Are you really going to act like I don’t exist?’
I smiled:
‘No. I’m going to treat you like a man who made his choice.’
After that, he said nothing more.
When they left, Lauren didn’t take his hand.
She looked like someone who had suddenly realised that the beautiful house she had moved into had no foundation.
I turned to my daughter and kissed her on the forehead.
The life I was now building belonged only to me.
In the weeks that followed, I quietly rebuilt everything — but on my own terms.
I inherited the Hawthorne Group as a dormant holding company. My great-aunt had invested early on in several technology projects, creating a powerful business behind the scenes. When the inheritance passed to me, I spent my days in meetings with lawyers and consultants, buried in contracts and decisions. But once I gained confidence, I fully embraced the role.
It turned out I had never been unemployed.
I had always been at the helm.
Lauren behaved professionally. She no longer contacted me directly, but her work spoke for itself — precise, measured, detached. And Ethan gradually disappeared from her life for good.
One day, I received a short letter.
Subject: Resignation
I have accepted another offer. Thank you for the opportunity.
I replied with two words: Good luck.
Ethan tried to remind me of himself — through lawsuits, custody claims and veiled manipulation. But the courts are not kind to men who abandon women during childbirth, especially when there is evidence. I had Sophie’s written statement, hospital camera footage, and his own messages.
He was denied joint custody.
He was only allowed supervised monthly visits.
Not as punishment — but to protect Emma.
I moved into a house I bought myself. No shared surnames. No compromises. Through my foundation, I assembled a team of women and young parents. I funded programmes for single mothers returning to work.
Because now I knew how easily we could be devalued — and how strong we become when we are underestimated.
People asked me if I would forgive Ethan.
I replied that forgiveness was not the goal. He used my vulnerability as leverage. But he also gave me clarity. By losing him — as painful as it was — I made room for something better.
I didn’t need revenge.
I had something much more solid: independence, stability, and a daughter who will grow up watching her mother lead with strength, dignity, and unwavering self-respect.
Sometimes life gives you a second chance.
Sometimes it hands you a blueprint through betrayal.
And sometimes it all starts with the phrase:
‘I can’t afford to support you.’
And with a woman who quietly inherited a future he never dared to dream of.
