His Double Standards, My Final Goodbye Chapter 09

His Double Standards, My Final Goodbye Chapter 09

The day the investigation and disciplinary findings came down, Chloe De Santis’s Gold Award was formally revoked.

The Association and the Commission’s Compliance Committee found that she had committed plagiarism, concealed evidence, and accepted improper attribution. She was barred from awards

and industry projects for five years.

Vance Holdings issued a public apology and paid me substantial compensation for the losses I’d suffered three years earlier.

That afternoon, the board stripped Dominic Vance of every position he held at the company.

His own written confession became the key piece of evidence.

The last time Chloe called me, her voice was hoarse.

“Are you happy now?”

“I didn’t decide the outcome of the investigation.”

“None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t reopened the case!”

“None of it would’ve happened if you hadn’t plagiarized my work and committed a crime.”

She went quiet for a moment, then let out a short laugh.

“You think you won?”

“Dominic lost his power as the Don of the Vance family because of you. His reputation is ruined. He won’t even see me anymore. He just sits there staring at all those old encrypted messages you sent

him.”

“Astrid, he fell in love with you.”

“So?”

“You don’t feel even a little sorry for him?”

“Chloe De Santis, you still think the love of a cold-blooded predator is some kind of prize.”

The other end of the line went silent.

I hung up and blocked her number.

That evening, Adrian came to my firm with the investigation files.

“The organizing committee is restoring the Gold Award to you. You can accept it publicly, or just

have the record corrected without a ceremony.”

I turned to the last page.

“Make it public.”

“You’re not worried about what people will say?”

“I’m not the one who belongs in the shadows.”

Adrian smiled.

“There you are.”

The award ceremony was scheduled for the following week.

I finally stepped onto the stage of one of Europe’s most prestigious architecture awards, the stage I’d been denied three years earlier.

When the host called my name, applause filled the room.

Mom sat in the front row, her eyes shining with tears.

Adrian held her coat for her.

Dominic sat alone in the shadows of the back row.

He didn’t come closer. When I looked his way, he only gave a slight nod.

After the ceremony, he stopped me backstage.

He was thinner than the last time I’d seen him, though his expensive suit remained immaculate.

“This is for you.”

He held out an old encrypted hard drive.

“It has every design you sent me three years ago, along with all our messages. I never deleted

them.”

“We already have enough evidence.”

“It’s not about evidence.”

He paused.

“You used to send me things every day.”

“Flowers blooming downstairs. A terrible cake you tried. A cat you saw on the street. I thought none

of it mattered, so sometimes I took forever to reply.”

“Then you stopped sending me anything, and I realized how quiet a day could be.”

I didn’t answer.

He gave a small, bitter smile.

“I moved out of the penthouse.”

“What about Cannoli?”

“I found him a regular family who genuinely loves cats and wanted him.”

“I cleared out everything Chloe left behind too. I replaced the fingerprint lock, and I put the place up

for sale.”

“Dominic Vance, you don’t need to tell me any of this.”

“I know.”

He slipped the hard drive back into his pocket, his voice dropping.

“I just wanted a reason to talk to you a little longer.”

Someone backstage called me over for photos.

Before I turned away, he asked, “Astrid, if I hadn’t lied to you three years ago, do you think things

I would’ve been different?”

I thought about it.

“Maybe.”

For a second, something lit in his eyes.

Then I said, “But we only get to live in the three years that actually happened.”

The light faded again.

He nodded.

“I understand.”

After the photos, Adrian handed me a cup of hot coffee.

Dominic watched from across the crowd for a moment, then turned and walked away!

Six months later, the pet-friendly luxury residential development officially opened.

On the day the model unit opened to the public, Mom came to see me carrying a newly adopted.

orange tabby.

“I thought we couldn’t have à cat at home?”

“The doctor says I’m recovering well, so one cat won’t hurt. Besides, haven’t you always wanted

one?”

The orange tabby sprawled in her arms, lazily brushing his tail across my wrist.

I stroked his head.

“Does he have a name?”

“Full.”

Mom smiled. “It sounds like he’ll never be short of anything.”

A cat bed sat beside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the model unit.

Sunlight spilled across the entire cushion.

Full jumped out of Mom’s arms, tested the bed with one paw, then curled into a ball.

Mom’s smile widened as she scooped up Full and carried him toward the balcony.

I was standing by the window when an encrypted system email popped up on my phone.

It came from the security-management system for Dominic’s former residence.

“Former owner Dominic Vance has completed the sale of the property. Your historical visitor and access-request records will be permanently deleted today.”

An automatically generated summary appeared below it.

Over three years, I had submitted 187 access requests.

Approved: 152.

Denied: 23.