From A Humiliating Bet To The Boss He Can’t Have Chapter 02
In the video, Grant wasn’t laughing.
He held the cashier’s check, his eyes scanning the spreadsheet. Every date and every amount stood out with brutal clarity, and his expression darkened by the second.
“What if she really just wants to break up?”
The private room went quiet for a moment.
Sloane was quick to laugh.
“Grant, you don’t actually believe that, do you? She’s used to living in Beacon Hill, riding in your car, coming in and out of private clubs. After she leaves you, what is she going to use to keep living like that?”
The others chimed in at once.
“She’s going to go back to Chicago to squeeze into some tiny apartment and ride the subway?”
“Come on. Once she remembers how hard ordinary life is, she’ll come crawling back.”
Sloane stuffed the cashier’s check back into the box.
“Don’t do anything. She’s just waiting for you to be the first one to fold.”
While they were still planning my next move for me, I had already left every shared group chat and blocked Sloane and every single person who had taken part in the betting, one by one.
Then I opened my tablet and signed a one-year lease on an apartment in Chicago.
Electronic signature complete. Deposit paid.
There was no Beacon Hill fireplace, no private parking spot—just a small apartment with decent light.
But only my name was on the lease.
A few minutes later, Grant’s assistant messaged me on LinkedIn.
[Ms. Ellis, Mr. Whitmore asked me to check when you’ll be moving back.]
I read it and closed the page without answering.
As the cab headed to the airport, my director called.
“Chicago has received your long-term contract. Grant will probably know very soon, too.”
She paused.
“Mara, this is the last time I’m asking. Have you really thought this through?”
Boston was dropping away behind me.
I tightened my grip on my phone and answered calmly, “I have.”
“This time, I’m not turning back.”