The Man I Made

I spent three years building Leo Vaughn.

I was there when he was a nobody, a brilliant ghost haunting the fringes of the design world. I was there, by his side, all the way to the top, to the deafening roar of his success. We had a plan. A pact. Seven years together, and then a ring, a wedding, a lifetime.

But on the eve of that seventh year, all I got was his contempt.

I was standing in a CVS aisle, the small, chalky bottle of his favorite stomach meds cool in my hand, when my phone buzzed with a text from a friend. A video. Leo, holding court in a private lounge, drunk and loud and laughing with his friends. Laughing about me.

“An old woman, man. I’m over it,” his voice slurred through the tiny speaker, laced with a cruelty I’d never heard before. “Honestly, the thrill is gone.” A pause, a swig from a bottle. “Besides, I paid my dues. She got what she wanted for the last few years.”

1

I pushed the door open.

The booming laughter in the private room died instantly, replaced by a thick, suffocating silence.

“What are you doing here?” Leo’s voice was sharp with irritation. He took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his head like a shroud, momentarily obscuring his face. Then, as if remembering some long-forgotten rule, he quickly stubbed it out in a nearby ashtray.

That’s when I saw the girl curled up in his lap, fast asleep.

He moved with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in months, gently draping his suit jacket over her, shielding her face from view. He shot a glare at his friend.

“Put that out,” he snapped. “You’ll choke her with that smoke.”

A bitter, acidic taste filled my mouth. I watched the scene, a silent movie of my own irrelevance.

Finally, his friend, Rick, decided to play the diplomat. “Clara, hey! This is just my little sister, Annie. She’s wiped, poor kid. Couldn’t even make it to midnight before passing out.”

He tried to sell me that pathetic excuse, as if I were some clueless investor he was trying to scam.

I didn’t say a word. The silence stretched, and Leo’s patience snapped.

“What do you want, Clara? What is the point of this?”

I took a deep breath, the stale air of the lounge filling my lungs, and walked toward him.

His arm tightened instinctively around the sleeping girl. I saw his friends tense, their eyes tracking me as if I were a predator closing in on their kill. It was almost funny. In the space of a single evening, I had become the monster in their story.

I stopped a few feet away from him, a safe distance. “I’m here to end this.”

If the room had been quiet before, it was now a vacuum. I could hear the faint hum of the ice machine in the corner, the soft whisper of someone’s breathing.

Leo’s brow furrowed in confusion, a silent question in his eyes. You? Are you being this generous?

You’re just letting this go?

God, I hated myself in that moment, for knowing every flicker of emotion that crossed his face, for being able to read him like a book I had written myself.

“Clara, come on, don’t talk like that,” Rick stammered, still trying to patch the gaping hole in the evening. “Leo was just looking after my sister for me. It’s not what you think.”

They had no idea I’d been standing outside the door, that I’d heard everything. They thought this was just a simple, garden-variety fit of jealousy.

The noise seemed to stir the girl in Leo’s arms. She shifted, murmuring something in her sleep.

He immediately softened, his voice a low, soothing hum. He gently patted her shoulder. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Go back to sleep. You’ve had a rough couple of days.”

My own emotions felt raw, exposed. I couldn’t deny it. In that moment, watching him, I envied that girl with an ache so sharp it felt like a physical blow.

“If you’re done with your scene, you should go,” Leo said, his eyes still fixed on the girl in his lap. “Don’t you have that big board meeting tomorrow? Can’t have the great Clara Sutton, the titan of industry, losing her composure over nothing. It would be bad for your brand.”

His friends mumbled in agreement, their voices low.

“Yeah, Clara, we’re all here. We’ll keep an eye on him for you.”

I stood there for a long time, the silence my only response.

“I’ll have my lawyer calculate the market value of your shares in The Sutton Group,” I said, my voice flat and steady. “As for the Aperture Designs partnership, I’ll be handing it off to my subordinate. I’m giving you what you want, Leo.”

You’re free now. You can be with whoever you want.

A new kind of understanding slowly dawned on their faces. They started to realize this wasn’t about jealousy. You don’t liquidate a shared life over a simple misunderstanding.

This was a demolition.

Leo finally grasped it. But his pride, his arrogance, wouldn’t let him accept it. He still thought it was a tactic.

“Don’t think this little drama is going to work on me, Clara,” he scoffed. “You can play your games all you want.” He sneered. “And if I really wanted to be with someone else, I wouldn’t need you to graciously ‘bow out.’ I don’t need your charity.”

He didn’t believe me. He couldn’t.

He saw my gaze linger on the sleeping girl, and his expression hardened. A fierce, protective glare. “You lay a hand on her, you so much as look at her wrong, and I swear to God, I will make your life a living hell.”

It wasn't a shout, but the threat hung in the air, a low growl that vibrated in my bones. He truly believed I would stoop so low as to hurt a child.

But I have my own pride. He had already called me old, boring, a thrill that was gone. Why would I subject myself to any more of this?

“Ma’am, weren’t you here to bring Mr. Vaughn his medication?” my driver asked softly from the doorway, reminding me of my original, pathetic mission.

I looked at the man I had loved, cradling another woman. It was clear now. A gesture of care from me was no longer a gift. It was just another piece of trash he had to deal with.

I closed my eyes.

Back in the car, I tossed the bottle of pills onto the back seat.

This year, spring felt like it was holding its breath.

2

The next morning, Leo arrived at the office for the signing, trailing the stale scent of last night’s liquor.

My assistant, as she always did, moved to leave the seat beside him open for me. I stopped her with a small gesture.

“I won’t be participating in the signing today,” I announced to the room. “Just bring the finalized contract to my office when it’s done.”

Leo’s face went cold. “Decided to become a silent partner now, Clara?”

The sudden chill from the usually easygoing Mr. Vaughn sent a ripple of anxiety through the junior staff in the conference room.

My assistant tugged nervously at my sleeve, her eyes pleading with me to smooth things over. For her sake, I relented, taking a seat near the door to at least be present.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Leo.”

She let out a slow, quiet breath of relief.

The young woman distributing the documents was unfamiliar, but I recognized her immediately. It was the girl from last night. Annie. Perhaps it was the intensity of my gaze, but she finally looked up, meeting my eyes.

“Ms. Sutton? Is there a problem with the documents?”

I hadn’t noticed last night, but here, in the bright morning light of the conference room, I could see how truly lovely she was. A delicate face, a soft, sweet voice. I could understand the appeal. How could I, a woman carved from years of boardrooms and battles, ever compete with that?

I smiled faintly and shook my head, a silent signal for her to continue.

But as she turned away, the hem of her dress caught the edge of a mug, sending scalding hot water cascading across the table.

“Ah—!” she cried out.

Leo, who had been watching us with a hawk’s intensity, was on his feet in an instant. He rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms.

“Annie, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

The raw, undisguised panic on his face was something I’d never seen before. It was a revelation. I never knew he was capable of that kind of emotion.

I glanced down at my own arm, splashed by the wave of hot tea.

Yes, that did sting a bit.

“Did you forget what I told you last night?” After settling Annie down, Leo turned on me, his face a mask of fury. The atmosphere in the room crackled, suddenly charged with his anger.

“I told you. I told you if you touched her, I would make you regret it,” he snarled, his voice low and menacing. “Did you really think I wouldn’t do it?”

He remembered every word he’d said about her, but not a single one I’d said about us.

He grabbed my arm, his grip like iron. The pressure was intense, even through the fabric of my blazer.

“Leo! Are you insane? That’s Clara!” his friend, Rick, hissed, rushing to his side. “Think about what you’re doing! Think about everyone who works for you! Are you trying to throw away everything we’ve worked for?”

The last part was whispered directly into Leo’s ear, but in the tense silence, I heard it perfectly.

Everything we’ve worked for?

A cold, uneasy feeling began to spread through my chest.

Seeing that Leo was beyond reason, Rick turned his attention to me, trying to appeal to my sense of decorum.

“Clara… we’re in the office. In front of everyone. Let’s not give them a show, okay? How about we all just take a step back?”

I let out a dry, humorless laugh and pried his hand from my wrist.

“I think Mr. Vaughn is mistaken,” I said, my voice carrying across the silent room. “We terminated our relationship last night. What possible reason would I have to harm Ms. Sullivan?”

Rick’s face froze, his peacemaker smile turning to stone.

Leo just looked confused. “When did we break up?” he demanded. “Clara, you don’t have to make up excuses like that to save face.”

Rick, the only other witness to last night’s conversation, just stood there, paralyzed and unwilling to intervene. A profound weariness washed over me.

It was like arguing with a wall. There was nothing I could do.

“Leo! You’ve got it all wrong! It was my fault, I knocked it over!” Annie came rushing back from the restroom, dabbing at her arm with a wet paper towel. She was out of breath. “Let go of her! You’re hurting her! Ms. Sutton got burned, too!”

The girl’s voice seemed to pull him back from the brink. The rage in his eyes flickered, replaced by confusion. Seeing how easily she could calm him, a familiar acidic sting rose in my throat.

He released my arm, his eyes falling to the damp spot on my sleeve where his hand had been. He still looked suspicious. He replayed the scene in his mind, trying to find a motive, a reason for me to have done it, and coming up empty. He immediately turned back to Annie, fussing over her, checking her arm from every angle, terrified that she might have been hurt while he wasn't looking.

Then he turned his cold gaze back to me.

“You know, Clara, you always have this look. Like you’ve just screwed someone over and have no idea how it happened. That innocent act,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “Stop pretending. I know what you are. You’re a liar.”

3

A liar? What had I ever lied to him about?

I glanced at the security camera in the corner of the room. I couldn’t be bothered to waste company resources pulling the footage to prove my innocence in such a petty squabble.

“If that’s what you believe,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion, “then tell me. How should I compensate Ms. Sullivan for her trouble? Since it was, after all, my fault.”

I gave my assistant a slight shake of the head, warning him not to argue on my behalf. My employees didn't need to get dragged into my personal messes.

Leo’s breathing was still ragged, but the worst of his rage had passed. “Annie has always admired you,” he said, his voice flat. “She wants to work with you. I want you to take her on, let her work by your side for a while.”

A collective, silent gasp went through the room. Even the employees from Aperture Designs were stunned by the audacity of the request.

So that was it. He wanted to plant a spy.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t seriously be agreeing to this!” Maya slammed her hand on my desk later that day. “You know he’s just trying to tear your company down from the inside!”

I dropped my head into my hands, the fight draining out of me. “I don’t have a choice, Maya…”

In a strange way, having her here, where I can see her, might actually buy me some time.

As soon as I’d felt that cold dread in the meeting, I’d had my team start digging into our business dealings from the past six months.

It turned out Leo had started laying the groundwork for this a year ago.

He was planning a hostile takeover. He wanted to rip my own company out from under me.

I spent three sleepless nights reviewing every transaction, every contract, every move he’d made. I recognized his strategy. It was a mirror image of everything I had ever taught him. But I had woken up too late. The damage was already done.

The financial bleeding was getting worse. I couldn’t figure out where he’d found such a catastrophic vulnerability, how he was able to move so fast, to pin me to the butcher’s block and start carving me up.

How could he be so cruel? Did he really hate me this much?

One by one, my projects started to collapse. Long-term suppliers began pulling out, choosing to pay enormous breach-of-contract penalties rather than continue working with me. It was a cascade of disasters, and I was drowning.

Finally, the day the investigators showed up at my office, I knew I had to surrender. I knew I had to face him.

I found him in his office, and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, I broke the suffocating silence between us.

“Leo,” I asked, the question tearing at my throat. “Does it have to be this brutal?”

He leaned back in his chair behind his massive desk, the picture of casual arrogance. He had been waiting for this moment, for me to come crawling to him.

“Kneel,” he said softly. “Kneel for me, right here, and I might consider letting The Sutton Group live.”

His words made it sound as if I’d committed some unspeakable crime against him.

“What did I do wrong?”

A look of pure, unadulterated disbelief washed over his face. He laughed, a short, sharp, ugly sound. “You have the audacity to ask me that? After you stole my design portfolio? After you paid people to sabotage my first company? You really have no shame, do you, Clara?” He shook his head. “I always knew you were a performer.”

No one knew better than me how much blood, sweat, and tears Leo had poured into his work to get where he was.

And all I had ever done was try to lighten his load, to handle the things that drained his energy so he could focus on what he did best.

I remembered that period, right before his company went public. He was running on fumes, completely exhausted. To give him the space he needed to focus on the new product line, I quietly took over all the schmoozing, all the late-night dinners and glad-handing with investors, just to clear his path.

It was true that his design portfolio had almost been stolen back then. But what he never knew was that I was the one who discovered the plot. If I hadn’t intervened, Aperture Designs would have imploded before it ever began.

The idea that I would steal from him was insane.

He blew a cloud of smoke directly into my face. I couldn’t help but choke on it.

He looked at me, his eyes cold and distant. “With you,” he said, “I think I’ve been far too soft.”

4

Annie was installed as my new assistant.

Her work ethic wasn’t exactly stellar, and she had a knack for causing small, inconvenient disasters. But I had to admit, she had a creative spark. She’d come up with wild, out-of-the-box ideas that my most seasoned employees, people who’d been with me for years, would never have dreamed of.

“Clara!” she chirped one evening, her eyes shining with genuine enthusiasm. “Can I please take you to dinner tonight?”

I hesitated, looking at her bright, eager face. Could this girl really be a willing participant in Leo’s plan to destroy me?

But the moment we sat down at the restaurant, my phone rang. It was my head of security.

“Ms. Sutton, it’s just as you suspected. Someone broke into your office right after you left with Ms. Sullivan,” he said, his voice grim. “They’ve leaked the evidence from the old Williamson antitrust case. The authorities are on their way to seal the building.”

And just like that, in a single evening, the empire I had spent more than a decade building was about to be burned to the ground by the man I loved.

I knew he was capable of this, but the sheer, brazen arrogance of it still sent a chill down my spine.

“Annie, I thought you loved spicy food,” a voice said from behind me. “Why did you order all this bland stuff?”

As if on cue, Leo appeared at our table, a radar-like precision to his timing. He took the menu from her hand and flagged down a waiter, ordering several notoriously fiery dishes.

“Today is a day for celebration,” he announced, placing a small, elegantly wrapped box on the table in front of her. “Happy birthday, Annie.”

Of course. He’d chosen her birthday to deliver the final, crushing blow.

He always knew exactly how to hurt me the most. I watched him, and beneath the smooth, charming facade, I could see it—the deep, triumphant glee of a man who had finally won.

Annie gasped as she opened the expensive gift. “Wow, I’ve never gotten anything this nice before! Thank you, Leo!”

The sight was like a shard of glass in my eye.

Perhaps buoyed by his good mood, Leo magnanimously served me a piece of fish from one of the new dishes.

“You have to try this, Clara!” Annie urged, oblivious. “This place is famous for it. It’s insanely, unbelievably spicy!”

Leo just smiled and patted her head, a gesture of pure affection.

“Are you happy now, Leo?” I asked, my voice raspy. “Now that you’ve pushed me into a corner?”

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise at the hoarseness of my voice. “Actually, Clara, you should be thanking Annie. If she hadn’t been so eager to work with you, your company wouldn’t have lasted this long.”

I managed a weak, disappointed smile. He was so young, still so naive in his cruelty.

Just then, Leo’s phone buzzed. A message. I saw his face darken as he read it. The court had dismissed his anonymous tip regarding the Williamson case. The reason given: case invalid, already adjudicated.

He immediately blamed me.

“You lied to me again.”

The same old accusation. I stared blankly at the bubbling red oil in the hot pot. If I hadn't preemptively submitted the real evidence of Mark Williamson's corporate espionage years ago, I would be completely ruined right now, just as he had wished.

Numbly, I ate the piece of fish he had served me. I slowly, deliberately, raised my eyes to his face.

There it was. The familiar cold indifference, now mixed with a fresh wave of anger.

So, he really had forgotten. He’d forgotten that I couldn’t eat anything spicy.

As the burning sensation began to crawl its way up my esophagus, a searing pain spreading through my stomach, I calmly took out my phone and dialed 911.

Leo watched me, a contemptuous smirk playing on his lips. “What’s this? What kind of pathetic act are you putting on now? That trick doesn’t work on me anymore, Clara. I’m not going soft on you ever again.”

His voice started to fade, the edges blurring into a dull roar in my ears.

Even as the paramedics loaded me onto the gurney, his vitriol didn’t stop.

The last thing I heard as my consciousness began to slip away was his voice, dripping with venom.

“Liars like you deserve to go to hell. You’d better make this one convincing. In fact, it would be best if you never woke up at all.”

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