My Ex-Fiancé Stole My Dreams

his eyes meeting mine. The air crackled with a tension thicker than anything I' d felt between us before. My gaze was cold

g his words carefully, navigating an unfamiliar conversational minefield. "I told her I wasn't interested. That I was with you." He paused, searching my face for a reaction, for any sig

He was worried about my "wrong idea," not about the fact that he was holding another woman in his arms, stroking her hair,

or not with, what ideas they have, or what ideas you need to 'manage' for them – it has nothing to do wi

ace. He clearly hadn't anticipated this response. He'd expected anger, tears, maybe e

he door. "Goodnight,

ou're acting... different. You've been distant since we got back. You didn't pick me up. You sold

s about me. It's about realizing that I deserve more than to be a convenient accessory in your

ense, analytical, as if he was trying to solve a complex equation. "This isn't li

or shut with all my strength, not caring that his hand was still there, forcing him

overwhelmed." He still had no idea. He saw my departure, my newfound assertiveness, as a temporary aberration, a tant

lan. It was Marcus. My new superior in Detroit. "Cayla, urgent call. I need you to

the air, heavy with unspoken implications. I an

lization model," he said, his voice grave. "The one you completed before your

at's impossible. I wrote th

lication, the one that just landed on my desk, lists Kisha Fleming as the lead author. Your nam

sha. Declan. My design. My paper. My intellectual property. Stolen. Agai

e, my heart hammering against my ribs. I found the paper, the title screaming my own words back at me. And there it was. "Kisha Flemi

ination of years of research, my original thought, my unique approach to urban renewal. It was mine. And he had given it away. To Kisha. To solidify her position, to boost he

ged through me. This wasn't j

force that made my knuckles ache. It rang once, twice. Then h

. "The Detroit revitalization paper. Kisha Fleming is the

"Ah, yes. That. Kisha was quite upset after the presentation tonight. I

y intellectual property! To 'lift her spirits'? Are you out of your mind? T

ble. "It's just a publication. A small gesture. Kisha has a lot of potential, and this wil

I don't need the credit? Declan, I poured my soul into that paper! It was my ticket to a new beginning! A

hority. "I have the final say on all publications from my lab. You were a drafting ass

re "drafting assistant." He had not only stolen my work, but he had publicly, brutally, stripped me of my professional value. The

e words laced with a pain so profound, it felt like my very soul was bei