The Hero Never Loved Me

I opened my eyes, my chest heaving as if Id just clawed my way out of a grave.

The harsh fluorescent lights of the office blinded me for a second, but as my vision cleared, the terrifying realization set in. I was back. I had returned to that daythe exact afternoon my husbands foster sister proposed taking the entire staff on a company-funded luxury retreat to Cabo San Lucas.

My pulse pounded against my eardrums. Deep in my companys accounting software, a catastrophic error lurked: our corporate accounts were about to be frozen by the IRS for an overlooked payroll tax filing. Honestly, it wasnt something that usually kept me up at night; it was a bureaucratic hiccup, easily fixed with a phone call and a wire transfer.

But her? His sweet, tragic foster sister? When she found out about the impending freeze in my past life, she had panicked like a rat on a sinking ship.

The memories of my past life crashed over me, suffocating and visceral. Under the guise of a "summer morale-boosting retreat," she had maxed out my corporate cards and drained every drop of liquid cash we had. Because of her, our supply chain shattered. We defaulted. I was left drowning in tens of millions of dollars in debt.

When I had confronted her, desperate and begging for the money back, she had simply leaned into my husbands chest, a coy, dismissive smile on her lips.

Come on, Tori. I only spent a couple million. How could a company this size go bankrupt over that? Stop trying to scare me.

And my husbandthe man I had abandoned my family forhad roared in my face. The companys money belongs to both of us, Tori! I gave Lara permission to use it. Who the hell do you think you are to micromanage her?

I had tried to call the police. Instead, they drugged me. They sold me to a cartel black site across the border. My final memories were a blur of unimaginable agony, cold surgical steel, and the profound, echoing darkness of dying with my eyes wide open, stripped of my organs and my dignity.

The most chilling part? When the news of my disappearance leaked, my employees hadn't shed a single tear. They had applauded. They called me a greedy corporate overlord who finally got what she deserved.

"You guys have been killing yourselves with overtime lately! So, to celebrate the end of the quarter, Jonathan and I agreedI'm taking everyone to Cabo! All expenses paid!"

The open-plan office erupted into deafening cheers.

Lara stood dead center, practically glowing beneath the adoration of the staff.

Through the glass walls of my private office, I stared at the scene. The thrumming of my own heartbeat confirmed it. I was really back. This was my second chance.

Before I could even steady my trembling hands, the door swung open. Jonathan walked in, trailing Lara, and wrapped a warm, familiar arm around my shoulders.

"Tori, babe, you look exhausted," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. "Let's go on vacation, just us and the team. To reward everyone for their hard work, Lara is treating them. We were hoping to put the flights on your Amex Platinum so we can rack up the miles and get the corporate rate."

Looking at Jonathans handsome, hypocritical face, a wave of pure nausea hit me.

In the life before this, once Lara got her hands on my Amex, she had systematically siphoned our operating capital. When the cash flow stopped, our projects died overnight.

When I had demanded answers, she had shrunk into Jonathans arms like a frightened bird. Tori, I barely spent a fraction of Jonathan's money. You're just trying to scare me!

And Jonathan had looked at me with cold suspicion, accusing me of embezzling the funds myself. Its just a trip to Cabo, Tori. How much could it possibly cost? Did you blow the companys money on a bad investment and decide to pin it on Lara?

I wanted to call the cops. They locked me in the basement instead. Lara had even brought in a vagrant off the street to violate me, recording it on her phone with a giggling, manic delight before shipping me off to be butchered.

Remembering the profound humiliation of my past life, I wanted to tear them apart with my bare hands.

While I was frozen in the memory, Jonathan reached across my desk, sliding open my drawer to grab the heavy metal Amex card. He handed it toward Lara.

My instincts took over. I slammed my hand down on his wrist.

"Put the card down."

Jonathan blinked, his charming smile faltering. "Tori? Whats the problem? We need to book the flights now or we lose the group rate. Dont ruin the vibe."

His eyes darkened subtly. Seeing the shift, Lara stepped forward, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

"Everyone's been working so hard, Tori. We're just trying to take care of your team. You own this massive company, but you're refusing to shell out for a simple team-building trip? Honestly... it almost makes it look like youre hiding assets."

Listening to them play off each other, a dark, hollow laugh escaped my lips. "That's funny. Through the glass just now, I heard you tell the entire floor that you were paying for everything. So why are you reaching for my company card?"

Laras lower lip trembled. Instantly, tears pooled in her wide, innocent eyes.

The sight of her crying shattered Jonathans composure. He shoved my hand away, wrapping both of his arms protectively around Laras shoulders.

"Lara has the biggest heart in this room. Shes the only one who actually cares that the staff is burning out," Jonathan snapped, his voice hard. "Don't push me, Tori. Half this company is mine. You don't get to act like a dictator."

I sat back in my leather chair, watching her play the victim. After what she did to me in the dark, the word 'heart' coming from her vicinity made me want to vomit.

When I refused to budge, Jonathan stormed out, slamming the glass door so hard it rattled in its frame.

I slumped into my chair, an icy calm settling over my bones.

By the time five o'clock rolled around, the usually buzzing office was dead quiet. The moment I stepped out of my suite, the small clusters of gossiping employees instantly scattered.

David, the senior developer who had been with me since we were working out of a garage, stood up. He wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Boss, word is you're blocking the company trip?"

I raised an eyebrow. I had merely refused to let Lara use my corporate Amex, but somehow, the narrative had spun into me canceling their vacation entirely.

I cut my gaze to Lara. She shrank back slightly, offering a weak, defensive murmur. "I... Jonathan and I were just trying to boost morale. We just want what's best for the company."

The rest of the staff glared at me. The hostility in the room was a living, breathing thing.

I squared my shoulders. "I have no problem with you all going to Cabo."

Right on cue, Jonathan emerged from his office. "Great. Then hand the Amex to Lara so she can book the tickets."

Thinking I had caved, Lara took an eager step forward, reaching out for the metal card in my hand.

I closed my fist around it, my voice dropping to a quiet, lethal register. "I don't hand my corporate cards to people with hidden agendas."

Jonathan exploded.

"Why are you being such a bitch?" he shouted, the word echoing off the concrete walls. "Lara is trying to do something nice for this company, and youre accusing her of having an agenda? Apologize to her. Now."

In the old days, whenever he used that tone, I would shrink. I would apologize to keep the peace. I loved him too much to lose him.

But now? I wished nothing but the worst for this parasitic pair.

"If I'm such a bitch, let's get a divorce," I said, the words slipping out with terrifying ease. "Since Lara is exactly what you want, I wish you both a lifetime of happiness."

Jonathans face drained of color. He clearly hadn't expected me to push back, let alone drop the D-word in front of the whole floor.

Laras eyes widened, shimmering with perfectly timed tears. "Tori, please, don't say that. Jonathan and I just grew up in the system together, we're just siblings. Please don't be mad. I even booked the honeymoon suite for the two of you!"

The staff couldn't hold back anymore.

"Jesus, Tori, be the bigger person. Lara is trying to do something nice for your marriage," one of the junior designers scoffed.

"Every time we do 'team building,' it's bowling in the suburbs. It sucks," another muttered.

"We bleed for this company, and you can't even stomach sending us to Mexico? You really are a corporate tyrant."

The voices layered over one another, a chorus of resentment entirely on Lara's side.

I looked at these people and felt a profound, chilling emptiness. Aside from federal holidays, I personally paid out of pocket for our monthly off-sites and weekly catered lunches. And I was the tyrant.

Seeing me cornered, a flicker of pure, malicious triumph crossed Laras face. She fanned the flames. "Well, since Tori won't allow it, I'll just cancel the resort. I guess we'll just get back to being wage slaves, grinding to make her richer!"

That was the breaking point.

The simmering frustration in the room boiled over. A hotheaded account manager snatched up his half-full iced coffee and hurled it at my face.

Someone else slammed a stack of heavy pitch decks against my chest.

The crowd surged forward, shoving me. My heels slipped on the polished concrete floor, and I crashed down hard, my knee taking the brunt of the impact.

The fury I had been keeping locked away tore out of me.

"Who the hell said I was canceling the trip?!" I screamed, my voice raw and echoing. "I said she is not using my company card!"

The movement stopped. They looked at each other, confused.

"What's wrong with using the corporate card? It gets the rewards points," David muttered. He pulled out his own wallet and slid a silver company card across the nearest desk toward Lara. "Here. Use mine. The limit isn't infinite like the boss's, but it's enough for Cabo."

Lara's triumphant smile froze. Reluctantly, she picked up the card.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, my nails digging so hard into my palms they drew blood.

The next morning, I arrived at work to find my office door unlocked.

My heart skipped a beat. I rushed to my desk, yanking open the drawers. Everything looked untouched, but my paranoia was entirely justified. I pulled up the security feed on my phone.

Sure enough, an hour after I had left yesterday, Jonathan and Lara had crept into my office. I watched them tear through my desk, searching frantically for something. But they found nothing.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Thank God I had taken the most sensitive financial documentsand the Amexhome with me last night.

Just as I was locking my phone, a text flashed across the screen. From the IRS.

Notice: Due to insufficient tax remittances, corporate accounts will be subject to an immediate freeze pending resolution.

It hit me. A few weeks ago, during an aggressive expansion phase, cash flow had been tight. Accounting had flagged a delayed payroll tax payment. Because I was juggling a dozen fires, I had told them I'd handle it by the end of the month and then completely forgot about it.

I reached for the phone to call my CFO, but my hand stopped mid-air. A dark, brilliant realization washed over me.

If the corporate accounts were frozen, any card attached to themincluding Davidswould be dead plastic.

I exhaled slowly, a grim smile touching my lips. I set the phone down.

That night, I finally slept soundly. But at 2:00 AM, my phone rang. It was my older sister, Caroline.

She was sobbing. She told me our mother, who was in Cabo closing a real estate deal, had suffered a massive stroke and was rushed to the hospital.

The world dropped out from under me. I threw clothes into a carry-on and booked the first redeye to Mexico.

When I finally sprinted through the Cabo airport terminal, exhausted and terrified, I nearly collided with a loud, laughing group.

Jonathan. Lara. And my entire office staff.

Jonathan spotted me, his smile morphing into a sneer. "Thought you wanted to save the company a few bucks, Tori? What, did you change your mind and tag along?" He crossed his arms. "Tell you what. Apologize to Lara in front of everyone right now, and we'll let you hang out with us."

My stomach churned with disgust. I slapped his hand away. "I have to get to the hospital. My mom is in surgery."

Furious at being dismissed in front of his audience, Jonathan kicked my carry-on bag, sending it skidding across the polished floor.

"Don't push your luck, Tori!" he barked. "You followed us all the way here, so drop the attitude. Say you're sorry, and we'll pretend you weren't a total bitch yesterday."

I saw red. I stepped into his space and slapped him hard across the face. The sharp crack silenced the group.

"Get out of my way," I hissed. "My mother is dying. I don't have time for your childish games."

Jonathan's eyes flashed with real menace. He opened his mouth, but Lara quickly stepped in front of him, pointing a trembling finger at me in mock horror.

"Tori! Your parents live in New York! I can't believe you would lie about your own mother having a stroke just to follow us and ruin our trip!"

Jonathans shock shifted instantly into deep, abiding disgust. "You don't even try to make your lies believable anymore, do you? God, you are so deeply unwell. It's pathetic."

Lara tilted her head, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth while her eyes stayed wide. "Honestly, Tori. Even if you were desperate for our attention, cursing your own mother's health? That's really sick."

The sheer audacity of it snapped whatever restraint I had left. I backhanded her across the face.

Lara grabbed her cheek, her eyes wide with manufactured shock. A second later, she burst into loud, theatrical sobs.

"Tori, I'm sorry! Please don't hit me! I promise I won't ever touch your money again!"

Her wailing drew the attention of the surrounding travelers, and immediately, my coworkers rallied to her defense, forming a wall between us.

"What is wrong with you?!" David yelled. "If you didn't want us here, just say it! Why are you physically attacking her?"

"You're a psycho! You just see us as garbage to step on!"

Lara hid behind David, weeping into her hands, playing the battered victim to perfection. The mob mentality took over. The staff pressed in on me, their anger escalating into something ugly and physical.

Outnumbered and overwhelmed, I backed away, retreating until I was backed into the glittering entrance of a high-end designer boutique in the luxury terminal.

Someone shoved my shoulder hard. I lost my balance, crashing into a velvet display pedestal. A heavy, crystal centerpiece hit the marble floor and shattered.

Jonathan stood at the edge of the crowd, watching me scramble amidst the broken glass, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

"Someone like her needs to learn a lesson," he said, his voice carrying over the commotion.

The malice in his tone terrified me. I kicked off my heels and tried to push through the crowd to run. But they boxed me in. One of the account managers actually grabbed a heavy designer handbag off a nearby shelf and hurled it at me.

"Hey! Stop!" The boutique manager sprinted over, his face flushed with panic. "Security! You are destroying our merchandise! You are legally responsible for all of this!"

Lara stepped forward, wiping her nonexistent tears, looking utterly unfazed.

"Relax," she said, pulling a silver card from her Chanel bag. "We can afford to buy everything she broke. Ring it up."

The manager, sweating profusely, called his staff over to tally the damages. The smashed crystal, the scuffed leather goods, the disrupted displays.

"The damages come to roughly one point five million US dollars," the manager said stiffly.

Jonathan didn't even blink. He looked at Lara with the casual arrogance of a billionaire. "Swipe it, Lara."

Lara smiled smugly. She handed over David's corporate card. The manager ran it through the terminal.

A moment of silence passed. Then, the machine let out a sharp, flat beep.

"Card declined. Insufficient funds."