"Cut the crap and sign."

"Considering everything we've been through, I've left you a fair share of assets. Enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life."

But before Brendan could say a word, Cindy shot to her feet and ripped the divorce agreement to shreds. "Debbie, you gold-digging tramp! Have you no shame?"

She was practically frothing at the mouth. "You're leaving Mr. Sanchez a couple of properties while you swallow Henson Sterling Group whole? How dare you! That company is Mr. Sanchez's life's work!"

Watching her little performance, I almost laughed. If she only knew that Henson Sterling Group was mine, and the man she'd schemed so hard to get was nothing more than a live-in husband with no stake in any of it. Now that would be entertaining.

"Debbie, will you stop with this nonsense!" Brendan gripped my shoulders with both hands. "I'm going to chalk today up to you being impulsive. But if you bring this up again, I will be genuinely angry."

"Although... you really should learn a thing or two from Cindy. She's gentle, she's considerate, and she'd never fly off the handle the way you do."

There was no getting through to him. I didn't bother trying anymore. My lawyers were already preparing to file.

I gathered my things, ready to leave this house I'd lived in for years. It was time to go home to the family estate and look after my parents.

Brendan saw me packing. He didn't stop me. "Just stay at a hotel for a few days. Once Cindy finds a place of her own, you can move back. After all, it was your little tantrum that cost her the job. You owe her that much."

The moment he left, Cindy dropped the act entirely. "Oh my, isn't Mrs. Sanchez supposed to be so tough? What happened? Slinking off with your tail between your legs?"

"Without Mr. Sanchez, you're just another washed-up old woman. I really don't understand what you've been so high and mighty about all this time."

She taunted me, waggling her ring finger in my face. On it sat a diamond ring. The diamond ring. The one Brendan had used to propose to me.

I didn't indulge her for a second. My palm cracked across her face, and I seized her hand, wrenched the ring off her finger, and tossed it straight into the toilet. "What's mine gets thrown away before it ever goes to you. And for the record, everyone calls me Ms. Henson. Nobody has ever dared call me Mrs. Sanchez."

"Debbie!"

Behind me, Cindy's shrieking curses didn't let up.

The next day, I went to pick up a custom order.

My father's birthday gala was coming up soon. I could never get comfortable in those couture gowns, so months ago I'd commissioned a bespoke suit at considerable expense.

Standing in front of the familiar storefront, I felt a pang. The last time I'd been here, Brendan had come with me. He'd said that once I put on that suit, I'd look so striking he'd have to fight off every man in the room.

And now, in the blink of an eye, he was the one tangled up with another woman.

"Ms. Henson, your suit was already picked up by Mr. Sanchez."

Why would he take my suit?

Baffled, I floored the accelerator and drove straight to Brendan's place.

One look was all it took. I knew exactly what he'd done. The suit that belonged to me was on Cindy's body. She stood in front of the mirror admiring herself, then turned to Brendan with a simpering smile. "Brendan, don't I look so much better in this than that old hag Debbie?"

Brendan dipped his head and tapped the tip of her nose, indulgent as ever. "You're young. Of course everything looks good on you."

A few days apart and she's already calling him by pet names. I could have laughed.

"Sure, it looks good," I said, stepping forward. "But I wonder if people would still compliment you once they found out the suit was stolen."

Brendan's expression darkened. He turned on me with a sharp rebuke. "Debbie, do you have to come in here throwing ugly accusations right off the bat?"

"But it's the truth!" I pulled at the hem of the suit. "My name is stitched right into this jacket. My suit ended up on her body without my knowledge. If that's not stealing, what is?"

Cindy's eyes turned red instantly. She tipped her face up, the picture of wounded innocence. "Brendan, she has so many clothes, and she's singling me out over this one? I honestly don't know what I did wrong!"

"Enough. It's just a suit!" Brendan waved me off. "Cindy starts her new job tomorrow. A decent outfit would help her make a good impression on her colleagues. How can you not see what actually matters here?"

"What actually matters?" I repeated the words slowly.

"You're telling me my father's birthday gala is less important than her job?"

"Debbie, will you stop twisting everything?" Brendan could barely keep the irritation off his face. "You have a closet full of clothes and you're fixated on this one? I'm begging you, just give it a rest. Stop stirring up drama."

"Please, Debbie, I'm begging you, stop fighting with Brendan!"

Cindy wept like a willow in a rainstorm. "You don't care how exhausted he is, but I do. Do you have any idea how draining it is for him to run a company that size every single day?"

"As his wife, you're not gentle, you're not supportive, and you can't even give him children. You are the definition of a failed woman!"

"And yet someone like you still has Brendan's love. What more could you possibly want?"

Brendan looked genuinely moved, as if he'd finally found someone who truly understood him. "Cindy..."

I let out a cold laugh and tossed a bill onto the table. "You two really are a match made in the gutter. I'm here for one thing today. Compensation."

"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars!" Cindy shrieked. "Debbie, have you lost your mind? What suit costs two hundred and fifty thousand dollars?"

I raised an eyebrow and looked at Brendan.

"Why don't you ask your precious Brendan? On top of the suit itself, factor in the time I've lost and the rush fees for a replacement. Then tell me whether that number is unreasonable."

Cindy turned to Brendan, eyes pleading, desperate for him to call my bluff. Instead, he gave a small nod. "That price is about right."

Her breath hitched. "But I don't have that kind of money! And I was only going to borrow it for a few days. Isn't she being a little too calculating?"

"Cindy, don't worry about it. Consider this suit her apology gift to you. We're not paying a cent."

"But Brendan, if you keep taking my side like this, she's only going to get angrier." Cindy leaned against his shoulder, practically preening. "I'm afraid she'll make things difficult for you."

"Don't worry about that."

Brendan was dismissive, a thread of arrogance running through his voice. "We're husband and wife. What's hers is mine. If I say it's yours, no one can stop me."

"Then I hope you'll both say that to the police when they get here."

I held up my phone and gave it a little shake. The screen glowed with an active call, and the number on it was 911.

"You—" Brendan rushed over in a panic, snatched my phone, and hurled it to the ground. It shattered into pieces on impact. "Debbie, do you really have to be this ruthless?"

That phone was the matching couple's set he'd given me at the start of the year, covered in crystal charms. He'd told me our love would outlast every diamond on it.

"All I know is that someone stole a suit I paid a fortune for. Either replace it with a brand-new one, or pay up."

Even though I already knew where Brendan's loyalties lay, watching him panic on Cindy's behalf still sent a sharp ache through my chest.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and kept my voice cold. "Cindy, are you going to hand it over willingly, or would you rather I take you to court?"

"Enough."

Brendan stood up, his expression dark. "I'll pay for her."

"You?" I'd arranged his position at Henson Sterling myself. His salary wasn't exactly generous. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars was no small number for him.

He disappeared into the bedroom and came back with a card, which he flung straight at my face. "There. Satisfied now?"

The moment I saw that card, I froze.

It was the card my father had given him as a wedding gift. At the time, Brendan had said it was a gesture of goodwill from Dad and that he'd never touch the money on it.

But after I'd put my body through countless rounds of IVF for him, he felt he owed me. He started depositing money into it regularly.

Back then, his eyes had been full of plans for our future. "You cover most of the daily expenses for now, fine. But once you're pregnant, you have to let me step up as a father. This card is going to be the nest egg for our little family!"

Now that same card had become his bankroll for throwing money at Cindy Pruitt.

I bent down and picked it up. "Fine."

Cindy kicked the card out of my hand, her lip curling with contempt. "God, you're pathetic. Nickel-and-diming your own husband."

"She gave you the money. Now get lost."

The suffocating weight in my chest grew heavier. Not because of Cindy's barbs. Because Brendan stood right there, watching her humiliate me, and didn't say a single word in my defense.

It took me days to pull myself together. Eventually, I slipped back into the unfeeling machine I became at work.

I had a decent relationship with most of my staff. During lunch break, a few of them wandered over to gossip.

"Ms. Henson, do you know who Manager Sanchez's wife is? The one he supposedly adores?"

I blinked. Brendan had always insisted on keeping our marriage a secret to avoid any negative attention at the company. Why would he start telling people now, right when we were about to divorce?

"He and I are about to have nothing to do with each—"

"It's Cindy Pruitt!" The girl's face lit up with excitement. "She's a new intern. I've never seen Mr. Sanchez be that gentle with anyone. And after all these years, this is the first time he's ever pulled strings at work, just to get her transferred in as his secretary!"

"It's so obvious he's crazy about her!"

"Honestly, they're adorable together!"

The younger girls kept gushing, one after another.

After lunch, I was heading to a meeting with a group of colleagues when Cindy stepped into our path and blocked the way.

"Hey, you. Who said you could wander around during work hours?"

The people behind me stared in horror at the intern badge dangling from Cindy's lanyard, baffled that she had the audacity to talk down to their boss.

"Debbie Henson, I'm talking to you!"

Cindy had a small entourage of her own, mostly interns who'd never laid eyes on me before. But they seemed to know she was the "manager's girlfriend," and that was enough for them to fall in line.

"Miss Pruitt is speaking to you." A boy with a face full of acne lifted his chin high. "Are you deaf or blind? Do you have any idea who she is?"

My assistant slammed a hand on the nearest desk. "Do you have any idea who Ms. Henson is?"

"Like I care?" Their faces still carried the softness of youth, but the words coming out of their mouths were vile. "Who knows whose bed she climbed into to land some low-level management gig. Miss Pruitt is Manager Sanchez's girlfriend!"

"Are you people so clueless you don't even know who Manager Sanchez is?"

"Let me spell it out for you. Other than the chairman himself, Mr. Sanchez's word is law at Henson Sterling!"

Cindy sauntered up and stopped right in front of me, triumph written all over her face. "Debbie Henson, you're fired."

"Security! Get this woman out of here!"

I turned to my assistant. "Recruitment was your responsibility, wasn't it?"

The assistant lowered her head, sweat beading at her temples. "Mr. Sanchez took over the hiring process after that."

I pointed at Cindy and her little crew. "Fire every last one of them. Bring in replacements."

"Who do you think you are?" Acne Boy sneered. "We're under Miss Pruitt's protection. You don't have the authority to—"

"Oh no. HR just notified me I've been terminated."

"Me too!"

Acne Boy stared at his final paycheck notification, wailing. "Miss Pruitt, what's going on? How did I get fired?"

Cindy had received her own termination notice. Brendan arrived at that exact moment, and she threw herself into her performance, tears streaming down her face like rain on cherry blossoms. "Brendan, I got fired!"

Without bothering to hear a single explanation, Brendan tore into me. "Debbie, do you have to go after Cindy at every turn?"

"There's a limit to how unreasonable you can be. This is a company, not your personal playground!"

"Let every executive standing behind you take a good look at what you're doing. Targeting an innocent girl over a personal grudge. You're not fit to lead. People like you are born selfish. You don't deserve to be at Henson Sterling!"

"Debbie, I'm ordering you. Reinstate Cindy's position immediately. Give her a promotion and a raise. Match her salary to yours, down to the last cent!"

He finished his speech with the righteous conviction of a man who believed the crowd would rally behind him.

No one did. Instead, every pair of eyes in the room turned to him with the same bewildered stare.

"You… don't you all think I have a point…?"

"Mr. Sanchez, have you lost your mind?" A mid-level manager couldn't hold back any longer. "Maybe check the security footage first? Your little girlfriend Cindy Pruitt started the whole thing. She spread disgusting rumors about Ms. Henson and even tried to fire her!"

"Impossible!" Brendan didn't even pause to think. "Cindy is kind-hearted. She would never do something like that."

Naturally, someone was only too happy to fan the flames. "Here, Mr. Sanchez. The footage is right here. See for yourself."

"Fine. Everything they said is true." Seeing that the tide had turned against her, Cindy stepped forward and chose to blow her own cover.