New Year’s Eve in New York City is insane. Insane. People everywhere. The streets are a circus. But as for Katy and I, we are tucked neatly away at the Masters Grand New Year’s Eve Bash in the lobby of their company building.

The place is packed. Partygoers filter in and out, wearing silly hats and drinking champagne.

The revenge is fresh on my mind as we move further into the party. All the key players are here tonight.

Houston and his girlfriend, Marley.

Gabi Kendall and her father, Mr. Masters.

And the man of honor, Craig Kendall.

People say you should forgive and forget, let resentment lie, let bygones be bygones, and this is all true.

I believe in forgiveness. I believe in not holding a grudge.

But, he isn’t a good guy; he’s the evil one.

So, my question is this: Do you seek revenge to stop the bad behavior?

Of course, you do.

I need to make sure this asshole never hurts anyone ever again.

As I was saying, all the key players are here, and Katy is sexy as hell in her red satin gown and fuck me heels. She’s fiery and hot.

Everyone toasts with champagne, and people kiss under the moonlight. The clock counts down, and we smile with the knowledge of what’s to come.

Saving the best for last.

Tasting the sweet victory of revenge.

Katy smiles as the time draws near, as the board and Kendall talk over whiskey and cigars, as Gabi and her father laugh along with them.

The band plays.

10, 9, 8,...

Katy stands near me.

7,6,5…

She smiles and takes my breath away.

4,3,2…

And here we go.

Happy New Year. The crowd erupts. The familiar Auld Lang Syne blares through every speaker as couple’s kiss. Everyone smiles, giddy with the promise of a new year.

Remember I told you I had a plan? I wasn’t scoping out the company to buy it.

No, this has always been the goal. The end game.

To break him.

I wait a minute or two for the chatter to die down, then I smile to the band, to the lighting guy, and to Katy. I walk on stage and grab the microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention,” I say.

It takes a moment for the cacophony of laughter to die.

All eyes are on me.

“I have a video in honor of our dear Mr. Craig Kendall.”

Craig’s smile widens, and he straightens his bowtie. Asshole thinks I’m actually honoring him.

I chuckle and click the remote to the PowerPoint.

The screen lights up with a picture of Craig, and the crowd settles in to watch the show.

Slide after slide, people learn the true story of Kendall. The things I have gathered over the years. The intel Charlie and I have stockpiled to bring to light at the perfect moment.

Embezzlement.

Using the company money for hookers.

Countless cheating.

Bribery.

Insider trading.

Every illegal activity he's ever partaken in, flashes on the screen for all to see.

Gabi walks away halfway through the video, but not before she slaps the fuck out of Craig. The board is appalled. But, it’s the ending of the video that brings the tears.

Pictures of Harper.

Pictures of Nathan.

Pictures of every life ruined by Craig Kendall. Picture after picture.

Finally, Craig leaves, but security stops him at the door.

The cops are waiting for him right outside, and they handcuff him and take him away as the crowd stares in shock.

I wrap an arm around Katy’s waist.

“Let's get the hell out of here.”

* * *

The next day, Katy tells me she has a surprise for me. A New Year’s present. We step inside the gallery, and she flips on the lights.

She beams at me. “I resigned.”

“What? Why?” I’m startled by her admission, by the fact she would give up after she worked so hard to achieve her goal.

I’m sure they would have made her partner. Hell, I would have.

“I realized it wasn’t what I really wanted anymore. I’d been living the life I thought I was supposed to live. There was no passion. No fire.”

“And what do you want to do?”

“This,” she shows off the gallery, “all of it.”

And then a framed piece of artwork in an alcove catches my eyes. I move closer.

It's a sketch I know well—a lighthouse on a deserted island.

Harper drew this one morning after she graduated high school.

She laughed about not going to college, but instead, traveling through Paris to study art.

“This is perfect. Thank you,” I say, touching the edge of the frame.

“I think it goes great in the gallery. If you have anymore of her sketches I'd love to show them as well.”

I face her, her gentle beauty enrapturing me. And the simplest of words fly out of my mouth, “I love you.”

Her eyes widen. “Love?”

“Yes, Katy. Love. I’m crazy in love with you.” I hold up my hands. “And I don’t expect you to love me back. I know it would probably be impossible.”

She doesn’t say anything, and I look away from the pain in her eyes. Impossible to fall in love with someone whose life you ruined.

Impossible to not let it break you.

But, damn if I’m not in love with everything about her. Her passion for art. Her fire for hard work. Her desire to succeed.

She grabs my hand with tears in her eyes. “Ford,” my real name on her lips sounds so good, “let’s walk to the middle of the ocean together.”