Too late, ex wife. From Janitor to Tycoon

Chapter Two

Sam stormed out of the office, his uniform still damp from hastily wiping his hands on them. His chest heaved, each breath sharp and ragged, a pounding reminder of the chaos threatening to swallow him whole. He needed to get changed, to escape, to vanish before it crushed him completely.

But fate—or misfortune—had other plans. Turning the corner toward the changing room, he nearly collided with Vanessa’s mother and sister, their eyes icy, slicing through him like knives. Every instinct screamed at him to run, but his feet rooted to the floor.

“Mom? Sis? What are you doing here?” Sam asked, forcing a polite smile that felt like paper over fire, a fragile mask over the turmoil churning inside him.

They didn’t respond. Their gaze was a wall of scorn, lips tight, eyes narrowing with silent accusation. Sam felt heat spike through his chest, a hot, angry panic clawing at his stomach. He forced himself to stay calm, though every nerve screamed.

“Vanessa is in there,” he said firmly, voice trembling just slightly despite his effort to stay composed. “I… I’m sure Vanessa will be glad to see me.”

Veronica’s lips curled into a cold, scornful smile. A chill ran down Sam’s spine, twisting his stomach into tight knots. “Of course she would be glad—I am her mother, not yours. Don’t ever call me that,” she snapped, every word deliberate, sharp enough to cut. Sam’s chest tightened painfully, a hollow ache gnawing at him. Shame, helplessness, frustration—it crashed into him all at once, leaving him momentarily breathless.

“You’ve signed the divorce papers, haven’t you?” she continued, eyes narrowing, accusation heavy in the air. Sam’s throat went dry. His hands itched to explain, to beg for understanding—but he knew it would do no good. He refused to let Vanessa bear the blame.

Swallowing hard, pulse hammering in his ears, he stammered, “I… all of this… it’s my fault. I wish we could—”

“Whose fault would it be?” Veronica snapped, voice brittle, echoing down the hall. “Vanessa is an angel. She can do no wrong. You…” She shook her head, lips pressed thin. “…you are at fault.”

Heat burned Sam’s face, a scorching mix of anger, frustration, and helplessness twisting in his chest. He wanted to scream, to make them see him—not as the villain they painted, but as the man who had given everything to protect the woman they loved. The words lodged in his throat like stones, refusing to pass.

“All right, she’s an angel… if you’ll excuse me,” he said instead, voice brittle, strained with suppressed emotion, as he turned to leave.

A low, icy voice cut through the charged air, stopping him mid-step.

“Stop right there. You can’t leave… not until you give me my money.”

It was Elena, Vanessa’s sister. Silent until now, she stepped forward, her gaze narrowing into blades capable of cutting steel. Her hands moved instinctively, trembling with barely contained fury, searching him like a predator who had already judged him guilty. Her controlled rage radiated like heat in a frozen room, and Sam froze, panic clawing at his chest.

What money? he thought, heart pounding in shock.

“Stop harassing me!” he said, trying to sound calm, but his voice trembled. Fear pricked at him, icy and sharp.

“Harassing? You stole from me!” Elena spat, venom dripping from every word, eyes blazing with accusation.

He tried to pull her hands off him, but she was relentless. The commotion drew the attention of a nearby security guard, broad and imposing.

“What’s going on here?” the guard demanded, scanning the scene like a predator.

“Thank goodness you’re here!” Sam blurted, desperation seeping into every word.

“He stole from me!” Elena cried, pointing at him. “A check… one million dollars! I want it back!”

“Give it to her!” Veronica snapped, voice brittle and commanding.

Sam’s hands shot up instinctively. “I didn’t take anything!” His heart hammered violently; every muscle coiled tight, ready to snap.

The guard, eager to appease the managing director’s mother, fixed him with a skeptical glare. Of course, Sam thought bitterly, I’m just the janitor—they’ll assume I’m guilty.

“Is that right?” the guard asked, stepping closer. “VIPs don’t get stolen from.”

“I said I didn’t!” Sam barked, panic and indignation swirling inside him like a storm. The corridor seemed to shrink around him, eyes circling like hawks ready to strike.

“Then let me search you,” the guard demanded, hand resting on his belt.

Sam tensed but nodded, dread coiling through him like a snake. “Fine. Do what you must,” he muttered, voice tight, heart racing. “Just know I didn’t take any money.”

“You took the money Vanessa gave you!” Elena insisted, voice high and accusatory.

A soft, bitter laugh escaped Sam. It’s because of a check she’s searching me like this? “The money is with your sister. I didn’t accept it.”

All eyes turned to him, disbelief and suspicion burning in their gazes. Veronica’s fury simmered, barely contained.

“You rejected a million dollars?” she demanded, disbelief cracking her composure. “I can see that. Give it to her… You’ve never given Vanessa anything. What right do you have to take her money?”

Sam pressed his lips into a thin line, suppressing a growl of frustration. Never given her anything… and yet I made sure she survived. She was almost dead when I found her. I gave everything to make her live, helped her with her career… How dare they judge me like this?

Just then, a glint of gold caught the security guard’s eye—the ring in Sam’s pocket, luckily no one was the necklace in the other pocket. Veronica’s eyes locked onto it instantly.

“You took money and Vanessa’s ring?” she demanded, venom sharp.

“This is mine,” Sam said steadily, even as adrenaline and fear warred in his chest.

“Good luck proving that,” Elena sneered. “Security! Lock him up! He tried to steal—and my sister’s ring!”

“This is my mother’s ring!” Sam insisted, hands trembling. “I gave it to Vanessa!”

The guard’s eyes narrowed, suspicion clear. “Your mother wears gold now, janitor?”

In the chaos, the ring slipped from Sam’s hand. The crystal ball embedded in it hit the floor with a sharp clink, echoing like a warning through the hall. Panic and despair coiled in Sam’s stomach.

“See what you caused?” Sam yelled, lunging forward. Adrenaline surged as he shoved the guard and Veronica aside. In the chaos, Veronica collided with Elena, and they all tumbled to the floor. Sam’s eyes locked on the ring, glinting dangerously in his hand, and he scrambled to reclaim it.

Elena sank beside her mother, grimacing in pain, but her gaze burned with defiance as it landed on Sam. A twisted grin of frustration curved her lips—half disbelief, half stubborn fury.

“Give it back, now, thief!” she screamed, each word sharp, accusatory, trembling with rage.

Sam’s chest heaved. Anger coiled through him like a living thing, his grip on the ring ironclad. The security guard had fallen hard, groaning and struggling to rise, completely outmatched in the upheaval.

“Good luck getting it back, entitled brat,” Sam said, voice low, dangerous, dripping with contempt. He didn’t look back as he strode toward the elevator, each step deliberate, unyielding.

The doors slid closed with a quiet thunk, leaving Elena sprawled on the floor, her mother beside her, and the groaning security guard behind them. The room was heavy with the residue of Sam’s fury—and his control.

“You will pay for this,” Elena hissed, helping her mother to her feet, her eyes still blazing.

“I’ve never seen him so angry,” Veronica whispered, her voice tight. “Gosh… that lowlife almost killed me.”

“Sorry, ma’am. I’ll alert security immediately,” the guard stammered, guilt creeping into his words.

“You good-for-nothing idiot! You let a loser overpower us? You are fired!” Veronica snapped, her voice cutting through the hall like a whip. “Where is Vanessa, so she can see how incompetent her security team is?”

When the elevator doors opened onto the empty parking hall, Sam’s gaze fell on a sophisticated woman approaching with security at her side. Her eyes locked on him—sharp, calculating.

“Hello, Mr. Sam Blackwood,” she said, her voice smooth, deliberate, laced with subtle menace. Sam froze, every nerve alert, adrenaline still thrumming violently through his veins.