The Golden Canary Flies Away

"Ava, it's a decision from the top. There was nothing I could do."

My team lead handed me a box of tissues as I was summarily dismissed, the official reason being a fabricated error. Everyone knew the real reason: my boyfriend, Nathan Hayes, was making room for Chloe Davis, his high school sweetheart and the company' s co-founder, back from abroad.

Just then, Nathan' s black Maybach pulled up, and Chloe emerged, linking her arm through his. He walked past me as if I didn' t exist, guiding Chloe into the building. My heart tightened. I went to our penthouse, cooked his favorite ribs, and sent him a picture: "Coming home for dinner? Made your favorite honey-glazed ribs." The message was read, but no reply came. Of course not. He was with Chloe.

Days later, Nathan finally came home. He saw my pharmacy bag: "You went to the hospital?" I lied, saying it was just a cold. He pulled me into an embrace: "You're not mad I fired you, are you?" I said no. I couldn't be. Three years ago, he saved me from my mother' s gambling debts, and I became his. His kept woman.

Then, Chloe's friend, Brenda Smith, found me. She showed me texts of my messages to Nathan, saying he and Chloe laughed about how pathetic I was. She slapped me, slammed my head against the table. I woke up in the hospital, Nathan by my side. He didn' t care about my pain; only about Chloe' s reputation.

A part of me had died that day. Nathan wanted his "white knight" and his obedient canary in a cage. But he didn't know his "golden canary" had started digging her own way out.