Chapter 3

The day after the meeting, rumors were already spreading like wildfire throughout the airport.

Some said I was jealous of the new hire. Others whispered I was pulling rank to bully her.

I sat in the tower's break room, sipping an iced coffee, tuning out every word.

The door swung open, and Lily walked in carrying two cups of coffee.

Noticing several colleagues from other departments in the room, she immediately put on her wounded, innocent act.

"Evelyn," she said softly, approaching me and setting a coffee on the table.

Her voice trembled. "Dominic already talked to me about yesterday. I know you're upset that I worked on the contingency plan, but I really just wanted to help. If the credit matters that much to you, I can ask him to put your name back on it. Please don't be mad anymore."

The colleagues around us immediately shot disapproving looks my way.

"Evelyn, Lily was trying to help. No need to be so aggressive."

"Seriously. It's just one plan. We're all working for the airport."

I watched her performance, a cold smile tugging at my lips.

"Put my name back on it?" I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed. "You took my work to make yourself look good, and you didn't bother asking. Some things don't go back just because you say so."

Lily bit her lip, tears pooling in her eyes. "Evelyn, please... I know I don't have much experience, but I really did put effort into it."

At that moment, Dominic burst through the door. The second he saw Lily crying, his expression hardened.

"Evelyn, what the hell are you doing now?" He strode over and positioned himself in front of Lily, glaring at me.

"I've made my decision. Lily's name stays on that plan. I had IT change the submission records in the backend. This is over. I don't want to hear another word about it."

He actually tampered with the system.

I looked at his arrogant face, and the last trace of emotion inside me went completely still.

"Dominic," I stood up, my voice flat and cold, "what you just did violates FAA data compliance protocols. You mess with that plan's underlying records, and there will be consequences. For both of you."

Dominic laughed like I'd told a joke.

"Consequences? Evelyn, have you been in that tower too long? Are you losing it? I'm the operations director. Airport data falls under my authority. You think you can threaten me?"

Behind him, Lily's mouth curved into a barely hidden smirk.

"Okay." I nodded once, saying nothing more.

I didn't acknowledge their mockery. I simply turned and walked out of the break room.

Instead of heading back to the tower, I went straight to the core server room on basement level two.

As one of the underlying architects of the approach control system, I held the highest security clearance in the entire airport—access so deep even Dominic didn't know it existed.

Badge scan. Iris verification. Into the main control room.

I sat down at the terminal, fingers flying across the keyboard. Dense lines of green code scrolled down the screen.

They thought deleting a name from the surface made something theirs. But the system remembers everything.

I pulled up every operation log tied to the "Thunderstorm Weather Approach Optimization Plan" over the past three months.

From the first draft to every parameter tweak to the final version—every keystroke was linked to my employee ID and computer signature.

More importantly, I found last night's backend records. Dominic using his admin privileges to force-change the submission data.

Even a backup recording of his call with the IT supervisor while he did it.

I packaged everything—logs, IP records, audio files—and locked them down with military-grade encryption.

Then I opened my private email and sent the file straight to the Senior Compliance Investigation Division at FAA headquarters.

Done. I pulled the USB drive, shut down the screen.

This was just the beginning.

Back at the apartment, I packed my things in under thirty minutes.

The Manhattan place Dominic and I shared had never felt like home anyway.

There wasn't much to take—the belongings here that were actually mine could barely fill a suitcase.

I pulled out the divorce papers I'd drafted weeks ago, signed the last page, and set them neatly on the coffee table. Next to them, I placed the apartment key.

I grabbed my suitcase and walked out without looking back.

Outside, evening traffic in New York was at a standstill.

I merged onto the elevated highway toward my new place, the city moving in slow motion around me.

My phone lit up on the passenger seat.

Caller ID: Dominic.

The ringtone echoed through the car, sharp and insistent.

I glanced at the screen. Without hesitating, I hit silent, flipped the phone face-down, and tossed it onto the seat.