Wrong Key to My Heart

A hidden folder caught my attention. It was labeled "Private". The moment I clicked into it, however, my heart sank.

I was greeted with intimate photos and videos of Natasha and Connor—an astonishing number of them that had been taken over a span of three whole years.

In one photo taken in a dim hotel room, they were curled up intimately on a bed, the sheets in disarray. Natasha was looking at the camera with a sultry expression, her gaze brimming with love. I'd never seen that in her eyes before.

What broke my heart even more was the date of one of the videos. It'd been taken during my business trip last year, when I was working my butt off contacting suppliers for her new project.

Natasha's voice came through the speakers. "You're the only one who makes me this happy… I love you. I love no one but you."

She had never said that to me before.

I turned the computer off. It all became clear to me now.

In Natasha's eyes, our seven-year relationship was utterly worthless. I was nothing more than a pawn she utilized in her career pursuits, disposable at any given moment.

…

With my resignation letter in hand, I made a beeline for Natasha's office. My seven-year tenure as her production consultant was finally coming to an end today.

Upon opening the door, I saw Natasha and Connor going over some documents with matching frowns.

"How are we going to handle this lawsuit? We can't afford the damages," Connor said anxiously.

Natasha's gaze turned sharp the moment she spotted me. "What the hell, Simon? How dare you show yourself here after stealing our designs?"

Oh. So they were fretting over the patent infringement lawsuit. I knew the studio was currently caught up in some legal trouble, but I never expected the blame to fall on me.

"I haven't taken any designs."

"Then who's this in the security footage?" Natasha pushed a tablet toward me. "Isn't this you?"

The video simply showed the back view of a person wearing a shirt similar to one that I owned.

"That's not me," I said before looking at Connor. "Someone's trying to set me up."

Connor immediately flew into a rage. "What are you trying to imply? Are you suspecting me? Natasha, don't you know just how loyal I am to the studio?"

Snorting, Natasha declared, "I'm so disappointed in you, Simon. All these years, you've been using my equipment and drawing a salary from me. I've never mistreated you.

"Now that I have a lawsuit on my hands, it's bad enough that you're not helping me out, but how can you go so far as to frame an innocent man?"

I wanted to stand up for myself, but she had already used her desk phone to make a call. "I need security to come to my office."

Two burly men came walking in.

"Hold him down."

Before I could react, they pinned me to the floor.

Natasha walked over and slapped me across the face. "Hand over the designs. Or else, I'll make your life a living hell."

"I didn't take any designs!" I growled, my teeth clenched.

All I got in response was a punch in the face. I tasted blood in my mouth, my vision blurring.

"You think I won't dare to do anything to you?" Natasha said as she stared down at me.

More blows rained down on my body. I curled into a ball on the floor, my consciousness fading.

"Maybe you should tell them to stop hitting him, Natasha," Connor said, pretending to persuade her. "I'm sure he has already sold off the designs. I'll get in touch with Mr. Wagner and see if he can help us resolve this issue."

Natasha nodded. "See this, Simon? See how much Connor cares about the studio. Meanwhile, look at you. You're the worst!"

Connor made a call. "Hi, Mr. Wagner. We've run into some trouble and—"

"Not interested," Michael responded curtly. "My boss has already decided to pull all of the investments in the studio."

"What? Why?" Connor panicked. "If there are any issues, we can fix them!"

"You want to know why? You can ask my boss himself," Michael replied before giving Connor a number.

Connor's fingers trembled as he dialed the number and made the call.

My phone started ringing in my pocket. With great difficulty, I pulled it out and took the call. "What do you want?"

As I took in Connor and Natasha's shocked expressions, my bloodied lips curled into a faint smile.