Swapping a Broken Heart for a New Start novel Chapter 9

Camila Davis gripped her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white, a bitter laugh caught in her throat.

So this was it. While she’d been busy with work and family, the news had already decided: Jordan Smith and his high school sweetheart were now the city's favorite couple.

Jordan had always been the low-profile type, preferring to keep his private life private. But now, there he was—parading his first love through downtown Chicago, making headlines for all the wrong reasons.

Meanwhile, Camila had spent years managing one of The Smith Group’s top research labs, pouring her sweat and soul into her work. Only a handful of people in upper management even knew about her connection to Jordan. The rest of the company? He kept her in the dark, never asking her input, barely even acknowledging her presence outside of work.

She closed out the news app, but the ache in her chest wouldn’t go away. By now, she was almost numb to it. Maybe soon she wouldn’t feel anything at all.

That evening, Jordan came home from work. He slung his suit jacket and tie over his shoulder, looking every bit the part—two buttons undone on his crisp white shirt, his tailored trousers making his long legs seem even longer. He tossed his jacket onto the arm of the couch, not bothering to look at her.

Camila was close enough to catch a whiff of unfamiliar perfume. Her stomach churned with nausea. She started to move away, but Jordan was already filling a glass of water, his tone detached.

“Lillian’s been having a rough time lately. You should clear out your lab. I’ve got other plans for you—just stay home and take care of her from now on.”

Camila froze, stunned into silence.

Before she could reply, Jordan went on, “The Smith Group’s struck a deal with the Taylor family. To show our sincerity, I’m putting Sandra in charge of the lab. She’s worked at some big European firms—honestly, she’s more experienced than you.”

He said it like it was a weather report—final, impersonal, not open to discussion. He’d made up his mind. Camila’s opinion was just background noise.

Her fingers clenched, every muscle tensed against the raw stab in her chest. It was all she could do to keep her face neutral.

She wasn’t some suburban housewife. She’d joined the Smith Group’s AI Medical Device Lab for Jordan’s sake, giving up her own research ambitions, her own future. She was good at what she did. She used to lead teams, pulling all-nighters to get projects over the finish line. That lab was her life’s work—her legacy.

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