“Don’t worry. If she can’t handle this properly, I’ll have her pack up and get out immediately,” Xavier said, his assurance firm, every word hammered into place.

At that, the corner of my mouth lifted.

Even after all this, he still wanted to keep that intern?

Just then, a faint cramp pinched my belly. My baby seemed to sense my mood and gave a gentle kick.

Steeling myself, I said evenly, “Xavier, I can let it go that she spread rumours about me. But she called the child in my belly a bastard.”

I drew a tighter breath and added, “You know me. I can’t tolerate being wronged. And I certainly won’t allow my child to be insulted for no reason.”

On his end, I heard him spring to his feet; the chair legs screeched across the floor with a harsh scrape.

“Babe, don’t be upset,” he said quickly. “It’s not worth it in your condition. Where are you? I’ll come to you right now.”

“No need,” I cut him off, my tone cool and controlled. “She’s a new intern—young and bound to make mistakes. Just make sure she understands that you’re my husband, not someone she can toy with.”

He agreed without hesitation. “Alright, Vivian. Anyone who bullies you or our child, I won’t let them off. I’ll have Finance settle things with the company and tell that intern to leave.”

“Just firing her isn’t enough,” I said, glancing at the wedding photo hanging on the wall, the frame glinting in the light.

“Xavier, I want you to handle this cleanly. Make that intern post a clarification, apologize to me across the entire internet, and fire her.”

I softened nothing as I finished, “I don’t want to see anything like this happen again.”

He swore he would take care of it.

However, about half an hour later, my phone lit up with a call from Ysabelle Lawson.

“Vivian, what the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped without preamble. “You damn bitch! You think you can have my husband fire me? Just because your family’s got a bit of filthy money? Don’t act like I don’t know who you are! My husband works for your company, but he’s not your family’s slave! If you keep pushing him, don’t blame me when I set the whole internet on you! That post earlier? That was just a warning. Next time, you better watch out, or your bastard child might not be so lucky…”

I waited until she ran out of steam.

Then, keeping my voice like ice, I said, “Do you really not know that phones have call recording? Yssa, I held my tongue because you’re an intern. I wasn’t going to stoop to your level. But now, that’s different. You’ve hurled baseless insults at me and my child. I can have a lawyer pursue your legal liability.”

She didn’t sound the least bit afraid.

If anything, her tone turned mocking.

“Oh, I’m so scared… Please, for an old woman like you, you’re awfully confident. My husband already said he’ll protect me no matter what! As for you, just wait for the mob to tear you apart.”

When the line went dead, my chest rose and fell, a slow ripple of breath.

It had been years since I’d encountered someone this outrageous.

I was just about to call Xavier to ask how things were progressing when, all at once, the work group chat exploded.

Yssa had started a barrage of messages. One after another, she posted long, flowery paragraphs. The gist, she claimed, was that the uproar online was all a misunderstanding.

[That day, I had just broken up with my boyfriend. He left me for another woman, and I was too emotional. That’s why I said what I said online. As for that candid photo of Vivian Summers, I didn’t even know it was you. I thought it was just some random picture I downloaded online… I’m really sorry for the harm this has caused you, Vivian.]

Scrolling down, I found Yssa’s apology strikingly sincere.

Even so, the dissonance jarred me. I couldn’t reconcile this meek, contrite voice with the woman who had just screamed at me over the phone.

With a few weightless lines, she had brushed herself clean of blame.

I drew a long breath.

“Fine,” I murmured to myself.

I had no intention of sparring endlessly with a young girl.

So, I chalked it up as a small hiccup in life and let it go.

...

The next day, however, reality snapped back.

I recalled removing my bracelet and leaving it in Xavier’s office, so I asked the driver to pick it up. However, at the company entrance, I discovered that my fingerprint and facial recognition access had been deactivated.

It was absurd.

My own company, and I no longer even had the right to enter.

So, I pulled out my phone and called Xavier.

“What’s going on? Did you reset the building access?” I asked, trying to keep my tone even.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, I heard a rustle, and then a man’s low, muffled grunt.

Only after he let out a long breath did he fumble up the call.

“Vivian, what did you say? I’ve been busy. I didn’t catch that…” he said, sounding distracted.

But that strange sound had already put me on high alert.

Cold spread through my veins.

I knew that sound of his voice too well—the way he only sounded when he was aroused, in bed.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice winter-cold. “Who’s with you right now?”

Before he could answer, a thought struck me.

Swiftly, I opened the surveillance backend on my phone, and in the next second, my world caved in.

As expected, the office blinds were fully drawn.

In the sealed room, Xavier sat in his chair while a young woman worked her hands over his shoulders.

I recognized her at once.

Ysabelle Lawson, the very intern who had been hurling insults at me yesterday.

My fingers clenched tightly, and heat stung the corners of my eyes.

Xavier had lied to me.

No wonder he was always so patient with her, defending her repeatedly, even when she had clearly crossed the line.

Now, I understand. They had been involved all along.

He stammered on the other end, trying to come up with an excuse.

“It’s nothing, babe. You misheard. I’ve been sitting too long, so I was massaging my own shoulders,” he said lamely.

“Really?” I said quietly. “You did it all by yourself? No pretty little helper around?”

On the screen, he furtively waved Yssa away.

She slipped out of the office, reluctant.

“See? No one here,” he said then, switching to a joking tone as if to lighten the air. “If I had that kind of time, I’d go to a massage parlor, wouldn’t I?

He tried to sound playful, lighthearted. "Vivian, why are you calling right now? Is something wrong? Do you want me to come keep you company?”

I stared at the man on the feed. He was the same one I knew, yet somewhere along the way, he had rotted.

He lied to me so casually. Every other time, I’d believed him.

Who knew how many times he’d fooled me already?

For a moment, I just breathed.

I forced myself to breathe and sound calm as I asked. “Why was my building access canceled?”

Then, unexpectedly, a memory resurfaced from a recent get-together with my friends, their gentle warnings echoing in my mind.

“These days, the real danger isn’t mistresses,” one of them had said, wine glass in hand. “It’s men who live off their wives. Be careful with your husband.”

“We all know Xavier treats you well, practically worships you,” another added.

“But you can’t ignore a man’s pride and ambition,” a third chimed in.

“Especially after he found out you're a rich heiress. With him being pressed under your heel like that, what man would enjoy it?”

“Especially now that you’re pregnant,” my friend had warned me, “you need to be careful. He might try to edge you out of your own company.”

Back then, I’d laughed it off. I thought they were just being overly suspicious.

Yet, looking back now, the memory chills me.

After all, if it weren’t guilt or something else at play, why would Xavier specifically delete my building access?

When I asked him, he paused, clearly taken aback.

“What? How is that possible? I definitely didn’t do that!” he protested. “Maybe someone deleted it by accident. Give me half an hour. I’ll look into it and have them restore it right away.”

I opened my lips to say more, but ultimately, it turned into a gentle 'mm,' and I ended the call.

Soon after, he sent me what sounded like a perfect explanation.

“Vivian, I checked,” he said briskly. “Yesterday, when HR was consolidating attendance records, they saw you’ve been on maternity leave for months and took it upon themselves to remove your access. I gave them a scolding and had them put it back. From now on, you can come to the company anytime, just like before.”

The way he said it in such a matter-of-fact tone made it sound as if the company had quietly become his.

But he seemed to forget that I’m the company’s legal representative. I’m the one who truly holds the reins.

If I hadn’t given him this company to run, even ten years of struggling would not have brought him to where he is today.

“Ma’am, where to?” the taxi driver prompted gently.

I sat dazed in the back seat.

It was the third time he’d asked.

Finally, I shook my head and passed him a thousand dollars.

“Nowhere,” I said softly. “Let’s just wait here.”

Lifting my gaze to the office building not far away, I settled in.

All afternoon, I sat restless in that cab, watching the front doors as people streamed in and out.

Sure enough, I eventually saw Xavier come out holding Yssa’s hand.

My breath hitched.

So after that feather-light apology, he hadn’t made things difficult for her at all and didn’t even mention firing her. At the time, I couldn’t understand why he’d be so lenient with an intern.

Now the answer was right in front of me.

I watched as he stopped, slipped an arm around her waist, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Go back to the apartment and wait for me,” he murmured. “I’ll come find you once I finish up.”

“I don’t want to,” Yssa pouted, clearly reluctant. “Is that old bat trying to seduce you again? Is she using that CEO title to pressure you into sleeping with her?”

“Xavier, maybe you’re scared of her, but I’m not,” she went on, chin tilted. “Worst case, I’ll report her and let her husband see what a slut she really is…”

“That’s enough, Yssa. Don’t cause me more trouble,” he said at last.

But his tone was unbearably gentle, the way you’d soothe a lover.

Then he added, low and earnest, “Vivian’s family background is formidable. Not even her husband can rein her in. I promise you, as soon as I’ve secured real control of the company in the next two years, I’ll cut ties with her completely and marry you.”

I almost burst out laughing from sheer anger. My hand moved instinctively, searching for a cigarette. Then, I remembered I’d thrown them all out months ago, when I got pregnant.

No wonder Yssa kept calling me a temptress for "seducing her husband.”

This was the root of it.

In her world, I’m the mistress.

They chatted a few more times on Instagram, soft and conspiratorial. Then, Xavier hailed a taxi and, ever considerate, opened the door for her.

“Yssa, take good care of yourself,” he said. “I’ll be home tonight.”

She looped her arms around his neck, kissed him on the lips, and they clung to each other for a long, syrupy moment before parting.

“Xavier, I’ll be waiting…” she whispered.

Only after her cab pulled away did Xavier straighten his clothes, smooth his expression, and turn to head home.