Everything Taken I Left to Become CEO (Darcy and Zane) novel Chapter 55

**TITLE: Pain Refines the Soul — Jason Brooks**
**Chapter 55: Darcy Had Deleted Him!**

Zane found himself once again pulling an all-nighter at the office, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over his weary face as he navigated the cluttered desk. The drive back to his apartment felt longer than usual, each red light a reminder of the burdens weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Initially, he had thought Darcy’s resignation would hardly make a dent in the company’s operations. After all, projects were meant to run smoothly, and he had an impressive team beneath him—each project manager boasting titles that inspired confidence. But the reality was far from what he had envisioned.

To his dismay, he quickly discovered that those impressive titles masked a staggering level of incompetence. Every trivial issue seemed to spiral into a crisis that demanded his immediate attention. Zane’s gaze turned icy as he surveyed the team, their faces paling under his scrutiny. They shrank back, mumbling excuses, “Darcy used to confirm these things before we proceeded. With her gone, there’s no one to handle them. Dr. Moss is always out, and we can’t reach her.”

“Stop bothering Dr. Moss,” Zane snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Her work is far more critical than your petty problems.”

As a result, the weight of the workload fell squarely on his shoulders, escalating to the point where he found himself working late into the night, just to squeeze in a few hours of rest at home. Just a few nights ago, he had succumbed to exhaustion and slept on the office couch. Now, as he finally returned to his apartment, he felt utterly drained, both physically and emotionally.

Once inside, he flicked on the lights, the familiar hum of the overhead bulbs greeting him like an old friend. He changed into his slippers, the soft fabric a small comfort against the hard edges of his day. Without wasting a moment, he headed straight for the bathroom, eager to wash away the fatigue that clung to him like a second skin.

Just as he was about to step into the shower, a loud growl erupted from his stomach, reminding him of his neglected hunger. He trudged into the kitchen, contemplating a quick fix of instant noodles to satiate his cravings.

However, as soon as he entered the kitchen, a rancid stench assaulted his senses, causing him to gag involuntarily. Zane pinched his nose, pushing through the foul air to discover the source of the odor. There it was—his spoiled noodle soup, a remnant of a hasty meal he had made three days prior, now a festering disaster in the pot.

A vein throbbed ominously at his temple, a physical manifestation of the mounting stress. With a heavy heart, he retreated to the living room couch, his mind racing with thoughts of how to handle the situation. He had intended to call the cleaning lady to express his frustration, but when he reached for his phone, a sinking realization hit him—he didn’t have her number.

Darcy had always taken care of such details, managing everything from the mundane to the critical in their shared life. Zane had grown accustomed to her handling the little things, allowing him to pour his energy into his career. But now, with Darcy gone, he was adrift, forced to confront the reality of his own shortcomings.

It felt like a cruel twist of fate; she had unilaterally ended their relationship, leaving him to navigate the aftermath alone. With a sense of urgency, he quickly searched for Darcy’s number and dialed it, his heart racing as he listened to the rings echo in his ear. After what felt like an eternity, the call connected, but there was no answer.

Frustrated and unwilling to accept defeat, Zane took a deep breath and steeled himself for the inevitable. He pinched his nose and returned to the kitchen, cleaning up the mess that had become his reality.

Finally rid of the foul odor, he swung open the refrigerator door, only to be met with a stark emptiness that mirrored his feelings. A vein throbbed dangerously on his forehead as he turned back to the living room, his mind racing with thoughts of how he could rectify the situation.

Just then, his phone buzzed to life, pulling him from his spiraling thoughts. It was Darcy, returning his call.

He answered quickly, rubbing his temples in an effort to ease the tension. “Darcy, please, just stop this. Come back.” His voice was strained, heavy with exhaustion and desperation. “I… I need you.”

Darcy held the phone away from her ear, her brow furrowing in confusion. The caller ID read Zane, and her heart sank. “Mr. Vance,” she replied, her tone clipped, “I believe I’ve made myself clear. We are over. Please don’t contact me again.”

“Wait—” Zane’s voice cracked, his brow knitting together in concern. “The cleaning lady hasn’t come for a few days. Can you find out why?”

Darcy’s response was cold and unwavering. “Her contract expired three days ago.”

With that, she stepped inside, slipping into a pair of Zane’s slippers as if she belonged there. She placed a bag of groceries and stomach medicine on the table, her presence filling the room with an unexpected warmth.

“Thank you,” Zane managed, feeling a flicker of gratitude.

“No need for thanks,” Zora replied, rolling up the sleeves of her expensive blouse with an air of determination. She moved toward the kitchen, taking charge as if she were the lady of the house. “Take the medicine first. I’ll whip up some soup and a light dish to soothe your stomach.”

Zane watched her, a swell of pride and vanity rising within him. Here was a woman admired by everyone, willing to cook for him, something Darcy had never done.

But as he thought of Darcy, the memory of her coldness from the previous night crept back into his mind. He pulled out his phone and sent Darcy a message, desperately seeking the cleaning lady’s contact information so he could negotiate the contract renewal himself.

After all, capable cleaners were a dime a dozen, but finding one with a good sense of boundaries was a rare gem.

Yet, as he stared at the screen, he saw only a gray tick on WhatsApp. No sign of a read receipt—Darcy had deleted him!

A surge of anger ignited in Zane’s eyes, and he gritted his teeth, feeling a mix of betrayal and indignation. “Fine. Good for you, Darcy!”

Just as he was about to spiral further into his thoughts, his phone vibrated once more. This time, it was a call from Darcy’s mother, an unexpected interruption that promised to complicate his already tumultuous day.