"Are you sure you want to move forward with this?" Yifeng asked me, tapping the final draft of the Series A pitch deck.
I gave him the calmest look I could manage. "Of course. You said it yourself—we're ready."
He grinned, that same too-practiced smile I used to think was charming. "That's my girl."
If only he knew.
Lumis Tech was now worth seven times more than when we started, all on paper of course—but paper was enough for vultures in suits to start circling. He was making promises he couldn't keep, hiring like a madman, and dipping into funds we didn't technically have yet.
And me?
I was watching. Quiet. Meticulous. Making sure that when this ship sank, the world would know exactly who drilled the hole.
I even had a folder on my desktop called "Plan Bae"—not because of the backup plan, but because someday when this was over, I could finally open it and build something real, for myself.
Not for him.