Chapter 4 - The Stolen Future
I stood in the fluorescent glare of the train station, staring at the red stamp on my own drawings.
Vance Enterprises.
Years ago, before I lost myself in double shifts to pay for Trevor’s debts, I had designed a line of accessible culinary tools. I dreamed of manufacturing them for people with arthritis and mobility issues. Trevor had always laughed at my sketches. “Nobody wants hospital tools in their kitchen, Sadi.”
But here they were. Stamped. Copyrighted. Owned by my husband’s company.
I flipped through the pages. Every single design. The weighted handles. The angled blades.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Roman. I ignored it.
I needed answers, but I wasn't going to get them from the man who had secretly bought my life. I flipped to the back of the sketchbook. A small manila envelope was taped to the inside cover.
I ripped it open.
Inside was a contract. It was an intellectual property buyout. Vance Enterprises was purchasing the rights to the "Culinary Ease" line.
The signature at the bottom wasn't mine.
It was Trevor’s.
He had forged my name as a co-creator and sold my life’s work to Roman's firm for fifty thousand dollars. And Roman had signed the bottom line.
Did Roman know the designs were stolen? Did he marry me out of guilt?
I marched out of the station. I didn’t cry. The time for crying over Trevor—or Roman—was over.
I took a cab straight to Vance Tower. I bypassed the receptionist, flashed my wife-of-the-CEO badge at security, and took the private elevator to the top floor.
Roman was pacing his office, his tie finally undone. When the doors opened, he stopped. Relief washed over his face.
“Sadi. Thank God.” He moved toward me.
I slammed the sketchbook down on his glass desk.
The relief vanished from his eyes, replaced by a deep, hollow panic.
“You bought me,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “Trevor didn’t just leave me for fifty thousand dollars. He sold you my designs. My future.”
Roman looked at the book, then at me. “Sadi, sit down. Let me explain—”
“Did you know?” I demanded. “Did you know he forged my name when you cut that check three years ago?”
Roman closed his eyes for a fraction of a second. “Yes.”
The word hit me like a physical blow.
“I knew,” Roman said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “I met Trevor at a pitch meeting. He brought your book. I saw the genius in it immediately. But he claimed he designed them. I had him investigated. That’s when I found you.”
“And you just let him take the money?”
“He was holding you hostage, Sadi! He was draining your accounts, killing your spirit. I told him I’d buy the designs only if he left the city and never contacted you again.”
“So you played God,” I spat.
“I freed you.”
“You stole my work to do it!” I yelled. “You own my dreams, Roman. And then you conveniently bumped into me a year later? Was our marriage just a way to keep the intellectual property in the family?”
Roman flinched. It was the first time I had ever seen him look truly wounded.
“I fell in love with you the first time I saw you pouring coffee,” he said fiercely. “I bought the designs to get him away from you, so I could give them back to you when the time was right. I was going to launch the line in your name for our anniversary.”
I shook my head, backing away. I didn't know what to believe anymore.
Before I could speak, Roman’s office doors burst open.
His head of security stepped in, looking grave. “Mr. Vance, I’m sorry to interrupt. But you need to turn on the news.”
Roman grabbed the remote and clicked on the wall monitor.
There, on a local financial broadcast, was Trevor. He was standing on the courthouse steps, wearing his tailored suit, looking like a victim.
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“...filing a massive lawsuit against Vance Enterprises,” Trevor was saying to the cameras. “My ex-girlfriend, Sadi Vance, stole my designs and used her marriage to Roman Vance to steal my company from me.”
Trevor smiled at the camera. “And I have the original emails to prove it.”
