CHAPTER 8
THE FALL OF VICTOR HAYES
Victor Hayes had always believed falling was something that happened to other people.
Employees fell.
Competitors fell.
People who made bad decisions fell.
But not him.
Victor was different.
That was the story he told himself for years.
He was smarter.
More ambitious.
More deserving.
The world had rewarded him because he was better than everyone else.
That belief was the foundation of his entire life.
And now...
the foundation was cracking.
The first week after leaving Meridian BuildWorks was the hardest.
Not because Victor had no money.
He still had savings.
Investments.
Assets.
At least, that was what he believed.
The hardest part was walking into rooms where nobody cared who he was anymore.
Before, when Victor entered a restaurant, people recognized him.
"Mr. Hayes, welcome back."
"Your usual table is ready."
"How is the new project going?"
Now?
The host checked his reservation twice.
"Mr. Hayes?"
The same name.
Different reaction.
No admiration.
No respect.
Only confirmation that he was just another customer.
And Victor hated it.
He hated the way people looked at him.
He hated the whispers.
He hated the articles.
Most of all...
he hated that everyone finally saw what he had always feared.
Without his title...
he was ordinary.
Kendra noticed the change immediately.
At first, she tried to pretend nothing was different.
She still dressed perfectly.
Still ordered expensive wine.
Still talked about their future.
But expensive habits become uncomfortable when the money behind them disappears.
"Victor."
She placed her phone on the table.
"We need to discuss something."
He looked up.
"What?"
"The apartment."
His expression changed.
"What about it?"
Kendra hesitated.
"The lease."
Victor stared.
"What lease?"
The silence answered before she did.
"Olivia owns it."
His jaw tightened.
"I know."
"Then we need somewhere else to stay."
Those words hit him.
Not because they were unexpected.
Because they confirmed something he did not want to admit.
Kendra was not standing beside him.
She was standing beside his lifestyle.
"You're leaving?"
Her face softened.
"Don't make it dramatic."
Victor laughed.
A bitter laugh.
"That's what you call it?"
Kendra stood.
"Victor, we need to be realistic."
Realistic.
Another word for survival.
"You told me we were going to have everything."
Kendra looked away.
"And we did."
The sentence almost made him angry.
Because she spoke about the past tense.
"We did."
Not:
we will.
Victor understood.
Kendra had already started looking for a new future.
One that did not include him.
Two days later, Victor received another surprise.
A lawsuit.
Not from Olivia.
From Meridian.
The documents accused him of:
unauthorized financial transfers
falsified vendor contracts
misuse of company resources
breach of executive responsibility
Victor read the papers three times.
Then he called his lawyer.
"This is because of Hartwell."
His lawyer was silent.
"Mr. Hayes..."
"What?"
"The evidence is substantial."
Victor stood.
"Are you saying I did this?"
A pause.
"I am saying the documents are difficult to challenge."
That was when Victor realized something terrifying.
Olivia had never needed to destroy him.
She only needed to stop protecting him.
Meanwhile, I watched the legal process from my father's office.
I expected satisfaction.
I expected relief.
Instead, I felt something else.
Disappointment.
"You still feel sorry for him."
My father stood behind me.
I shook my head.
"No."
A pause.
"I feel sorry that he became this person."
Arthur looked at the city.
"Some people become cruel because they suffer."
He turned toward me.
"Others become cruel because they think they deserve more."
I knew which one Victor was.
That afternoon, I received a message.
From Victor.
Only three words.
I NEED TO TALK.
I stared at the screen.
For seven years, he talked.
I listened.
Now he wanted me to listen again.
I almost ignored it.
Then I remembered something.
Understanding someone does not mean forgiving them.
So I agreed.
We met at a small café downtown.
Not the expensive restaurants he used to choose.
Not the places where people recognized him.
Just a quiet table near the window.
Victor arrived late.
That alone told me something.
The old Victor was never late.
He believed other people's time belonged to him.
He sat across from me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then:
"I lost everything."
I looked at him.
"No."
He frowned.
"What?"
"You lost things."
I corrected him.
"Your position."
"Your money."
"Your image."
A pause.
"But you still have yourself."
He smiled sadly.
"You really believe that?"
"Yes."
"Even after everything?"
"Yes."
That seemed to confuse him more than anger would have.
"I thought you hated me."
I looked at my coffee.
"I hated what you did."
"Not me?"
I was quiet.
Because the answer was complicated.
"I hated the person you chose to become."
Victor looked down.
"I was jealous of you."
The confession surprised me.
"You?"
He nodded.
"Do you know what it was like standing next to you?"
I almost interrupted.
But I didn't.
"Everyone thought I was successful."
He laughed softly.
"But I knew the truth."
"What truth?"
"That I wasn't special."
The honesty caught me off guard.
"I watched you."
Victor continued.
"You knew things. You understood people. You never needed attention."
He looked at me.
"And I hated that."
For the first time...
I saw the wound beneath the arrogance.
But a wound did not excuse a choice.
"Victor."
My voice softened.
"You were afraid of being ordinary."
He nodded.
"And instead of becoming better..."
I finished the sentence.
"You tried to make me smaller."
Silence.
He looked like he wanted to apologize.
But apologies require courage.
And Victor was still learning.
Finally, he whispered:
"Is there any chance?"
I knew what he meant.
No.
But I also knew he needed to hear it.
"No."
His eyes closed.
"Because of what I did?"
I shook my head.
"Because of what you became."
Victor left the café alone.
But he was not the only one watching.
Across the street, a man sat inside a black car.
He had been following Victor for weeks.
Waiting.
Watching.
When Victor disappeared into the crowd, the man made a phone call.
"She met him."
A pause.
"Yes. Olivia Hartwell."
The voice on the other end was calm.
"Good."
"Now we know where her weakness is."
The man looked toward the café.
"She still cares."
That night, I received another anonymous message.
One sentence.
YOU WERE RIGHT ABOUT PEOPLE WITHOUT POWER. NOW YOU WILL LEARN ABOUT PEOPLE WHO WANT YOURS.
I stared at the words.
And for the first time...
I wondered if my seven-year experiment had created a bigger danger than Victor Hayes.
Because Victor wanted my life.
May you like
But someone else wanted my empire.
End of Chapter 8
