The buzz of Sharon's phone was an intrusion into her new, quiet world. For three days, her apartment had been a sanctuary and a prison. The initial, soul-crushing grief had hardened into a constant, low hum of anger, a fuel that kept her moving, kept her breathing.
She was at her small kitchen table, a spreadsheet open on her laptop, the numbers a stark representation of her reality. The "invoice" she'd sent Kenzo was a declaration of independence, but it was also a Hail Mary. She was staring at the cold, hard math of her debt.
It wasn't just her mother's medical bills, though that mountain was high enough. A secret, heavier weight pressed down on her: a loan she'd co-signed for Sasha two years ago to launch her friend's boutique. The boutique had failed, and Sasha, with her flighty income, had quietly let the payments fall to Sharon. It was a debt of friendship, one she'd shouldered in silence, and it was about to drown her.
Her phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't a text. It was an email notification. The sender made her blood run cold: Kenzo Hayashi.
Her first instinct was to delete it. To block him completely. But the financial spreadsheet glared back at her, its red numbers a silent scream. You have two months. Maybe three.
With a sense of grim inevitability, she opened it.
SUBJECT: A Counter-Proposal - Project Phoenix
The name was a punch to the gut. Phoenix. Rising from the ashes. His ashes. The arrogance of it took her breath away.
She read the email that was short and brutally professional. 'The Nakamura deal is failing. The systems you built are faltering without you. This is not an attempt to rehash the past.'
Liar, she thought, her fingers curling into fists. Everything with you is about the past.
Then she opened the attachment. The consulting contract.
Her eyes scanned the terms, and her breath hitched. The fee was… astronomical. Triple her invoice. It was more than enough to vaporize her debt and set her up for a new life, a real one, free from the shadow of Hayashi Tech and Kenzo Hayashi.
But it was the fine print that revealed his true game.
'…all work to be conducted on-site at Hayashi Tech or in designated, secure neutral locations with the CEO present.'
He wasn't just buying her skills. He was buying her presence. He was building a cage of professionalism and forcing himself inside it with her. It was a trap, beautifully baited with millions of yen.
The door to her apartment opened, and Sasha breezed in, holding two coffee cups. "I come bearing caffeine and gossip! You will not believe what Annika from accounting just posted—" She stopped, her smile fading as she saw Sharon's face. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Sharon turned the laptop screen toward her. "He responded."
Sasha's eyes darted over the email and the contract. Her expression shifted from concern to outright alarm. "No. Absolutely not, Sharon. This is a trap. He's trying to buy you back! Look at this.. 'with the CEO present'? He just wants to get you alone and manipulate you all over again."
"He's offering me financial freedom, Sasha," Sharon said, her voice quiet.
"At what cost? Your sanity? Your self-respect?" Sasha placed a hand on her arm, her voice softening into a conspiratorial whisper. "You're finally free of him. Don't walk back into that gilded cage. Sue him for the original invoice if you have to. But don't do this."
Sue him. The words echoed, but Sharon's mind was already racing, calculating. A lawsuit would take months, years maybe. This money was now. And as Sasha pleaded, a cold, sharp thought pierced through Sharon's turmoil.
Why is she so against this? A real friend would be helping me find a way to get this money, not telling me to run from it.
It was the same feeling from the other night. Sasha's eagerness to paint Kenzo as a monster felt less like protection and more like… fear. Fear of what would happen if Sharon went back.
The two warring parts of herself, the heartbroken woman and the ruthless claimant, clashed violently.
The Claimant whispered: Take the money. Crush your debt. Go in there and show him you are indispensable. Make him watch what he threw away. This is power.
The Heartbroken one wept: He hurt you. He was with Nadia. He doesn't deserve a second of your time. Walking back in there will tear you apart.
She looked from Sasha's worried face to the contract on her screen. The hidden motive, the one she barely admitted to herself, rose to the surface. It wasn't just about the money. It was about walking back into that office, not as his heartbroken secretary, but as an equal. It was about looking him in the eye and making him feel the full, devastating weight of his loss. It was about revenge, served not cold, but professionally and expensively.
"I have to do this," Sharon said, her voice firmer now.
"Sharon, no—"
"I have to," she repeated, cutting Sasha off. She turned back to her laptop, a new, terrifying calm settling over her. "But not on his terms."
She opened a new document and began to type, her fingers flying across the keyboard. She wasn't just accepting his offer; she was rewriting it. She struck through the fee and keyed in a new, even more audacious number, quadruple her original ask. She added clauses of her own:
All communication will be documented in writing.
No personal discussions. Breach of this will result in immediate termination and a full payout of the contract.
Meetings will be held in a designated conference room, not his office.
A project-based hourly rate for any work exceeding the defined scope.
She was building her own cage, one where she held the key. She was the architect now.
She attached the revised contract to an email. Her response was even shorter than his.
Mr. Hayashi,
Find my terms attached. They are non-negotiable.
S. Lee
She hit send. The die was cast.
Sasha stared at her, a complex mix of frustration and something else, was it fear?, in her eyes. "I hope you know what you're doing."
Sharon looked out the window, at the city where Kenzo Hayashi sat waiting. The tears were gone, replaced by a glint of steely resolve.
"So do I," she whispered.
But inside, the claimant was winning. He thinks he's luring me back, she thought, a cold smile touching her lips. But he's just invited a wolf back into his kingdom. And this time, the wolf is wearing my face.