Hester thought I was throwing a tantrum—like one of those live-in husbands who discover their wife's affair and dissolve into tears and threats, only to be pacified with a luxury watch and a lavish party.

She seemed to have forgotten who I was.

I didn't have a family empire to fall back on like she did. But I'd carved my own path. Accepted to a top foreign university at sixteen. Clawed my way through Wall Street's shark-infested waters by twenty-two. Returned home at twenty-five to compete with her head-to-head in the business world.

We married not because I couldn't live without her, but because she'd promised me forever. One life. One love. Just the two of us.

The joke was on me.

Five years. That's all it took for her to forget every word.

The next day, I received a friend request from Joshua. The note read: "Darrell, I'd like to explain about your car's maintenance issue."

Work buried me that day—back-to-back meetings until evening, then a rushed flight home for my uncle's seventieth birthday. He was my only living relative.

I didn't accept the request until I landed.

Joshua immediately sent a voice message. Something about the mechanic being a temp worker who'd gone AWOL. Couldn't be reached.

I didn't reply. But my thumb slipped, and I accidentally tapped into his feed.

The latest post was from thirty minutes ago.

Hester sat on our couch in our villa, drinking soup. Behind her hung the oil painting I'd paid a fortune for at auction. The handcrafted Italian rug I'd had custom-made.

And there was Joshua. Wearing my favorite pajamas. My slippers.

Grinning beside her, one arm raised to take a selfie, the other flashing a peace sign.

The caption: "Finally able to take care of you while you're sick. I know I've been misunderstood, but the truth speaks for itself. Homemade bone broth—hope you feel better soon."

I screenshot it and sent it to Hester.

"Living in my house. Wearing my clothes. Getting cozy with my wife. This is your idea of 'innocent'?!"

Her reply came instantly.

"Darrell, Joshua spilled soup on his clothes while cooking. He's just borrowing yours temporarily. He meant well. Don't overthink it."

I laughed—cold and sharp.

"Meant well?"

"More like the soup was an excuse and sneaking into my home was the real goal. Wearing my clothes to play house? What—does he think if he squats here long enough, he'll get promoted to husband?"

"Do you have to be so cruel?"

Her tone shifted.

"You're never around. He came to take care of me. Can't you show a little generosity?"

"Darrell, you weren't like this before. When did you become so overbearing? So cold?"

I stared at the screen and laughed in disbelief.

Overbearing? Cold?

When Cobb Group's funding collapsed, I was the one who led my team through a month of sleepless nights to secure the investment that saved her.

When her father was hospitalized, I was the one who shelved a billion-dollar acquisition to sit by his bedside for two weeks.

She used to say she admired my decisiveness. My killer instinct in business.

Now that she had a sweet, attentive little angel by her side, suddenly I was overbearing and cruel?

My uncle insisted I stay. It wasn't until the third day that I caught the earliest flight home.

The fingerprint lock hadn't been changed.

But my fingerprint had been deleted.

I stood at my own front door and rang the bell.

Joshua opened it.

This time, he wasn't wearing a shirt. Just loose athletic shorts slung low on his hips. His hair was wet, dripping—like he'd just stepped out of the shower.

"Darrell?" His voice pitched with surprise. "What are you doing here? Hester's still sleeping—"

I cut him off.

"Last I checked, I don't need permission to enter my own home."

"Move."

"That's not what I meant—"

Joshua planted himself stubbornly in the doorway.

"But Ms. Cobb is still resting, and you seem upset. I was afraid you'd disturb her..."

I didn't waste breath on him. I shoved him aside.

"Get out of my way."

The commotion woke Hester. She emerged from the bedroom on her crutches, frowning at the tension crackling between us.

"What's going on?"

Joshua's tears came before his words.

"Ms. Cobb, I'm so sorry—you were exhausted last night, and I just wanted to let you sleep longer. I didn't mean to offend Darrell..."

He wiped at his eyes, turning his face away with wounded dignity. A little white rabbit, bullied within an inch of his life.

But his ears burned crimson.

Hester coughed twice before speaking.

"Darrell, you've really misunderstood him. Apologize."

I ignored her and dropped onto the sofa.

My gaze lifted to the display shelf. The framed photo of Hester and me—gone.

In its place sat that peachwood talisman sword Joshua had carved and polished with his own hands, mounted on a rosewood display base.

On the coffee table lay a pair of underwear that wasn't mine.

"No wonder he wouldn't let me through the door." I let out a cold laugh. "Hester, you two have been having quite the time."

Joshua scrambled to grab the underwear, tears streaming.

"These are mine—I washed them, I was just drying them here—"

"Drying them in the living room?"

I scoffed.

"With Hester's broken leg, I'm curious—who was taking care of whom? Was it even comfortable?"

Joshua's face went scarlet. He stammered, "Darrell, you—you really have the wrong idea. Ms. Cobb and I, we didn't do anything—"

"Enough!"

Hester glared at me, her patience snapping.

"Do you have to say such vulgar things just to humiliate him?"

"He's just an innocent young man—not like you, with your head full of schemes!"

I met her eyes.

"What exactly am I scheming?"

"You're scheming how to embarrass him, how to destroy his reputation, how to make me obey your every command—revolving around you and only you forever!"

Her voice rose with each accusation.

"Yes, I let him stay! But nothing happened between us! He took care of me, and I'm grateful—it's that simple! Why do you have to assume the worst about everyone?"

"Whether people's hearts are dirty doesn't interest me."

I pulled out a document.

"But what does interest me is this: six months ago, you used Cobb Group funds and resources to open a franchised auto dealership for him. Twenty million dollars. Filed under 'charitable investment.'"

I let that sink in.

"Hester—did the board approve this? Embezzling company funds to support your boy toy. How does that charge sound?"

Her face went ashen.

"You investigated me? He's not my—"

"Then what is he?"

I rose and walked toward Joshua.

"Mr. Delgado. Why don't you tell me—what exactly are you?"

Joshua bit his lip.

"I just... I admire Ms. Cobb. I'm grateful for everything she's done for me. That's why I came to help for a couple of days..."

"Admire her enough to wear my clothes? Sleep in my bed?"

I gestured toward the master bedroom, its door still ajar.

"Hester, I watched you both walk out of that room with my own eyes. Explain that."

Her jaw tightened.

"Believe what you want. Joshua slept on the floor to take care of me. We didn't do anything."

"I don't actually care whether you slept together."

I tucked the document away and placed a divorce agreement on the coffee table. My tone left no room for negotiation.

"Hester. Transfer full ownership of that dealership back. Sign this divorce agreement like a good girl. Assets split according to our prenup. We end this with dignity."

I paused.

"Otherwise, I'll sue you for embezzlement and adultery. I'll report everything to the board." A thin smile crossed my face. "How do you think those old foxes will react? Think they'll pass up the chance to throw you out?"