Chapter 1"Choose: Give HER your research—or I'll kick you out of the company." My husband said that to me while his mistress smiled from his lap.
Five years of sacrifice. My talent, my energy, my everything—all for HIS company.
And this is the thanks I get?
Fine. Let's see who's crying uncle first.
30 days later, I'm celebrating a breakthrough with my new team.
When I got a message from my ex:
"She ruined all my projects and tried to murder me to avoid getting sued."
"Please come back..."
Oh, really? That's way too—
AWESOME!
"Drinks are on me, everyone!" I beamed, popping open another bottle of champagne.
--
"Serenida, Mr. Blackwell wants this ready right now. Hate to dump this on you, but you need to wrap it up before leaving today."
Lysandra Crane, my husband Algernon's assistant, tossed a thick bundle of documents onto my workspace, acting like we were old friends catching up.
I picked them up. "Understood."
But she kept going.
That smile still plastered on, she added, "Mr. Blackwell and I are meeting with a client in a bit. Just drop those files on his desk when you're done. Oh, one more thing—make sure his office is cleaned up before you leave."
Off she went, striding across the floor like she ran the whole building, her heels echoing with each confident step.
The workspace around me went silent.
My colleagues glanced over with that familiar expression—part sympathy, part resignation.
Everyone at Nexus Innovations knew Algernon Blackwell, our CEO, was my husband.
Everyone also knew he didn't even pretend to hide his favoritism anymore, and Lysandra was his golden girl.
He'd stolen her from a competitor, promoted her straight to director, then gave her a million-dollar account I'd spent two full months landing and developing.
I complained.
He called for a team vote, assuming everyone would back him up.
Dead wrong. The entire team voted for me—all except him.
Lysandra got one vote. His.
He completely lost it. Accused me of turning people against him.
Didn't just reassign the project—he demoted me in front of the whole department and slashed the salaries of everyone who'd supported me.
Nobody said a word.
Later, he apologized. Said he didn't want people thinking he played favorites. Claimed Lysandra would feel excluded otherwise.
I actually believed that garbage once.
Now? It's laughable.
Lysandra couldn't even keep up with our entry-level employees.
"Didn't want people thinking he played favorites"? Please. He was openly choosing her over everyone.
The whole company could see it—everyone except him, apparently.
I heard someone upstairs and glanced up. Algernon.
He appeared at the stairwell, made brief eye contact with me, then walked past without a word. Changed into some casual business outfit.
Even from here, that woody cologne hit me.
He never wore cologne before.
That specific one? Lysandra bought it for him.
Yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing. He'd been pulling stunts like this for years.
It all started after I found their goodnight texts.
I couldn't keep quiet—I confronted him about it.
Algernon said I was making a huge deal out of nothing.
Then, like that somehow justified everything, he used it as his excuse to "formalize things" and put Lysandra in a direct reporting line under him.
The angrier I became, the more he doubled down—bringing her to every work function, filling her plate, even dabbing her lips during office dinners.
Whenever we argued, he'd freeze me out.
When I tried to fix things, he'd recruit his friends to gang up on me, telling me I was just jealous and insecure.
For a stretch of time, I genuinely thought I was the problem. Wondered if maybe I just wasn't understanding enough. Figured that's what landed us in this nightmare.
But three days into one of his silent treatments—when I was too sick to lift my head and he still packed up to leave town with Lysandra—I finally stopped fighting it.
That's when everything clicked: he wasn't trying to do right by anyone.
He just weaponized my so-called "pettiness" so he could keep doing whatever he wanted without any guilt.
Even if I'd never seen those late-night messages, he would've just invented some other justification to spend time with her.
After their most recent work trip, they kept up the same pattern—dinner dates, drinks, tennis matches.
But something about the way they acted around each other had shifted. I could sense it.
Not that it changed anything for me.
Five years of this. Finished. Over.
Chapter 2
This disaster had gone on way too long already.
I stayed late at Nexus Innovations, wrapping up that proposal. Glanced at my phone—Lysandra had been flooding social media.
Romantic candlelit setup at some upscale restaurant. Two perfectly plated steaks. Algernon, looking sharp as ever, slicing hers into pieces for her.
Her caption read: "When the CEO cuts your steak himself, it just hits different."
The comment section exploded with hearts and swooning.
Some clueless people even asked when they were getting married.
Algernon responded with three dots. Lysandra followed up with a playful wink emoji.
No denial. Never any denial.
This time, though, I didn't explode. Didn't call him. Didn't get lectured for being "dramatic."
I just sent him a message: proposal's finished. Dropped off the files in his office, topped off the water dispenser like he'd asked, then headed home.
The moment I got inside, my phone started ringing—Algernon's name on the screen.
I answered, but it wasn't his voice.
"Serenida, it's Lysandra. Really appreciate you handling that project. We should grab dinner soon, my treat." Sweet as pie.
Before I could respond, Algernon jumped in. "Don't bother thanking her. That's literally what she gets paid to do."
Lysandra giggled. "Mr. Blackwell, she's your wife. Can't you be a tiny bit nicer to her?"
They sounded like the actual married couple.
I let out a soft laugh.
Algernon—who used to completely lose his mind if I so much as glanced at his phone—now passed it over to Lysandra like it meant nothing.
And weirdly enough?
I felt totally fine.
What used to feel earth-shattering suddenly felt... insignificant.
They kept bantering for another minute, then Algernon finally seemed to remember I was still on the call.
"I'll be home in a bit. Don't stay up—just go to bed."
Then the line went dead.
His version of "in a bit" usually meant four or five hours.
I used to stay awake the entire time, worrying myself sick.
This time, I couldn't care less.
I just walked into the study and stared at the calendar sitting on my desk.
Not too long ago, Algernon and Lysandra turned some business trip into their personal getaway.
While they were off pretending to be a couple, I quietly submitted my resignation.
Algernon was too wrapped up in whatever he was doing to pay attention—he signed off on it without even glancing at the paperwork.
Three days left.
Once I finish training my replacement, I'm gone.
I hesitated for a second, then dialed Prof. Aldous, my former research advisor who'd relocated overseas to run a leading institute.
Right after I graduated, I'd secured a competitive position there immediately.
But Algernon claimed he needed my support to get his business off the ground.
And like a complete fool, I abandoned everything and flew back to California.
Prof. Aldous warned me against it. I ignored the warning completely.
Thinking about it now… yeah, that was incredibly stupid.
Loves? Those change on a dime. My career? That never turns around and betrays me.
When the call connected, I laid out my reason for calling.
I expected some harsh criticism. But what I got was a long exhale.
"I'd already caught wind of things... was actually considering reaching out to invite you back. But this time around... are you absolutely certain?"
"Completely certain. Already turned in my resignation."
"Resignation? What are you talking about?"
That voice wasn't coming from my phone.
I spun around.
Algernon was standing right there in the doorway.
The call had already dropped.
I hit the lock screen without saying anything.
While I was still scrambling for words, his phone vibrated.
Lysandra yet again. She'd stumbled across some stray kitten and stopped to grab it a piece of sausage.
"Adorable." Algernon said in a voice note.
Her reply came instantly: "The kitten, or me?"
Followed immediately by a selfie—her cradling the kitten, making a pouty face with a peace sign.
Algernon grinned. "Kitten's adorable, but you're way more adorable."
Then, like he'd just remembered I was in the room, his entire expression went blank.
He looked at me, ice-cold.
"Didn't I tell you to go to bed? Why are you still awake?"
The sudden shift in tone was jarring.
Nothing remotely close to how he spoke to her.
And he'd completely forgotten I'd mentioned resigning.
I gave him a weak smile. "Just finishing up a couple things."
Chapter 3
Algernon's frown deepened. "It's late. What could possibly be left to do? You really need to work on your time management, Serenida. This whole procrastination habit is getting ridiculous."
I didn't bother mentioning it was his endless stream of last-minute demands that created the problem.
No point arguing. No point explaining. I kept my mouth shut.
He didn't press further. Just turned and headed toward the bedroom.
A moment later, I heard him laughing. Actually laughing out loud.
Couldn't remember the last time I'd heard that sound. He only ever laughed like that when he was talking to Lysandra.
I blocked it out, sat down at my desk, and opened up some research journals I hadn't gotten through yet.
The institute had evolved significantly over five years.
Even with Prof. Aldous vouching for me, I'd need to demonstrate I could still deliver.
Lucky for me, my foundation was strong. I'd get back up to speed quickly.
"You're reading research journals?"
I hadn't even noticed him walk back in.
He grabbed one off the pile, skimmed a few pages, then dropped it back down with a condescending smile.
"Why bother with this stuff? Can you even understand any of it?"
I straightened the stack. "Just looking through them."
"Something you wanted?" I said.
There was a time when Algernon showing up just to talk would've made my entire night.
But not anymore.
Algernon stood there looking caught off guard, like my directness threw him completely.
His expression changed—uncomfortable, like he'd walked into an awkward situation.
"Actually, yeah. Lysandra just closed a major deal, so I'm planning to give her a promotion. Figure it'll motivate everyone else. Thoughts?"
He held eye contact.
Sure, he acted like my input mattered, but we both understood it didn't.
I simply shrugged. "Fine by me."
Then he continued, "Course, recognition should balance out with consequences. You haven't delivered any major wins lately, so I'm considering reassigning you to a junior role. Temporarily."
"When things settle, I'll move you back up. No big deal—it's what's best for the company. You're my wife, so obviously you'll back me up on this, right?"
I laughed—inside my head, where he couldn't hear it.
He still hadn't figured out I'd already submitted my resignation.
He could read Lysandra's every mood shift from across the room, memorized every tiny preference she had.
Meanwhile, his own wife handed him resignation paperwork he approved without even noticing.
That's what indifference actually looks like. Doesn't take more than a sentence or two to spot it.
When I didn't respond, Algernon clearly thought I was winding up for another argument, same as usual.
His expression hardened. "Whether you agree or not doesn't matter. Already made the announcement. Your workspace goes to Lysandra starting tomorrow."
"Either take the reassignment or quit," he stated. "Fair warning though—company's about to go public. Probably want to consider that before making any rash decisions."
He genuinely believed I'd stick around.
Nothing surprising there. I'd been pushed down the ladder multiple times already, always because of Lysandra's petty complaints.
I'd tolerated it before. Algernon figured I'd just hold on even tighter now.
I gave him a hollow smile. "Never said I had a problem with it."
"Great, then we're good," Algernon said, visibly relaxed.
To him, my silence always equaled consent.
He'd almost made it to the door when he stopped and turned.
"Weren't you keeping our picture on your desk before? What happened to it?"
That's when it actually registered.
Wasn't just the desk either. I'd covered practically every surface with photos of us—my phone background, bedroom walls, even tucked inside my wallet.
Tiny reminders that regardless of how distant he acted, he supposedly still loved me.
He used to mock that habit. Called me obsessive over those "pointless little tokens."
He never understood. Never realized they were the only things preventing me from leaving.
Eventually, I saw them for what they really were—evidence of how desperately pathetic I'd become.
"Frame broke," I said without emotion. "Packed it away."
He looked concerned, eyes immediately dropping to scan the floor.
"You need to be more careful. Make absolutely sure you got all the glass—don't want anyone stepping on it."
His voice went softer, probably relieved I wasn't pushing back. Then he walked out of the study.
I watched him leave and almost let out a laugh.
That concern wasn't aimed at me.
It was about making sure Lysandra didn't get injured.
This was meant to be our shared space.
I'd been the one maintaining everything—right up until a few months back, when I discovered a scrunchie in his study. Pillows on our bed positioned wrong.
That's when it became obvious.
Lysandra had been coming here.
Multiple times.
