The day I finally secured an investment worth over 20 million dollars, I walked into the office and immediately caught sight of that calculating assistant wearing a smug look as she spread gossip around.

According to her, my husband, the CEO, was planning to strip me of my position and exile me to some forgotten branch in Northreach.

Contract in hand, I headed straight for the CEO's office. I stood behind my husband and rubbed his temples while joking casually, "You won't believe what I just heard. Apparently, you're sending me off to a branch office. If only they knew we've been married in secret for seven years and are about to make it public."

He didn't look surprised at all. He gently pushed my hand away and smiled.

"It's not a rumor. Andrea messed up the last project, and the board is breathing down my neck. They want someone sent to Northreach, and they picked her. That place is brutal. She wouldn't survive it. She's not like you. She doesn't have the luxury of failure. If she goes there, her career is finished. She was my junior back in school. I can't let her life fall apart."

He paused, then added softly, "Once you come back, I'll announce our marriage. And I'll make sure you get what you've always wanted. A child."

I smiled, but it held no warmth. I turned around and walked out without another word. Before I reached the elevator, I made a call to his biggest competitor.

"Looking for a vice president? I'm bringing 20 million dollars of funding with me. I only ask for one thing: Don't send me to Northreach."

There was a short silence on the line, followed by a small chuckle and a sigh.

"Are you serious? I'd give you the world. How could I ever let you suffer through wind and sand out there?"

I was long past being impressed by this kind of polished flattery. I cut straight to business.

"So when can I start?"

"Anytime. Who's trying to banish you to Northreach? Quinton would never sign off on it. Didn't he just talk about going public with you after you helped Andrea clean up her disaster a few days ago?"

I sidestepped the question and replied evenly, "Just be ready to take over the 20-million-dollar investment."

After ending the call, I logged into the company system and submitted my resignation.

Then I returned to my office, grabbed a cardboard box, and began packing my things.

I hadn't shut the door. Colleagues kept sneaking glances from their desks, curiosity written all over their faces. A few bold ones even came over, eager to gossip.

"Ms. Woolery, I heard Northreach is hell on earth. A colleague came back from there once looking half-dead and skinny as a rail, and her skin was so rough it could scrape paint. You've been with Mr. Kemp for seven years. Can't you at least ask him to go easy on you?"

"She obviously rubbed Ms. Roffe the wrong way. After all, Ms. Roffe is Mr. Kemp's favorite. Take notes, everyone. That's what happens when you offend the wrong person."

Quinton Kemp never bothered hiding his bias toward Andrea Roffe. That was exactly why so many people were so quick to side with her and trample over me.

I was just about to explain that I was resigning, not being exiled, when Andrea emerged from the CEO's office, looking smug and triumphant.

She deliberately straightened her posture, flashing a freshly pinned vice president badge, and spoke with fake generosity.

"Lisa, you don't have to take anything from this office. I don't mind at all. When you come back, I'll make sure everything's still here for you."

The atmosphere shifted instantly. The looks people gave her turned syrupy and eager.

"No wonder Mr. Kemp demoted Lisa before sending her to Northreach. He was clearly keeping the vice president spot open for Ms. Roffe."

"I'm officially rooting for them. This is true love! They're the real power couple!"

Back then, Quinton used to say workplace romance was unprofessional. Hence, we stayed secretly married for seven years. He also shut down even the slightest rumor about us.

Once, he caught a cold, and I handed him a cup of hot water.

Someone said something snarky about it. Because of that, he exploded and slashed everyone's performance bonus in half that month, causing me to be completely isolated overnight.

Now, he let rumors about him and Andrea spread freely. He even claimed that office romance boosted morale among younger employees.

And I had actually believed that nonsense. What a joke.

Andrea cleared her throat, putting on a modest expression.

"Don't say things like that. Quinton only gave me the vice president title to help settle my nerves. I'm not like Lisa. She worked really hard for six years before earning that position. That's how it's supposed to be done."

The next moment, Andrea deliberately unclipped her badge and held it to me.

"Lisa, I've always felt like this position doesn't really belong to me. The vice president role suits you far better."

I knew she was just putting on a show, looking for a chance to humiliate me.

I wasn't about to play along. I reached out and took the badge.

"You're too nice. Thanks."

Andrea stiffened, her fingers tightening around one corner. I gave it a couple of tugs, but she wouldn't let go.

We were locked in that awkward struggle when her ear flicked. Hearing footsteps approaching, she released it instantly.

In the same breath, she snatched the glass of water off the desk, dumped it over her own head, and collapsed to the floor. Tears welled up as she looked at me helplessly.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Woolery. If you want the vice president position, I'll give it back. Why did you splash water on me?"

The acting was painfully obvious. And yet, Quinton fell for it every single time.

He didn't ask a single question. He shoved me aside and rushed to help Andrea up.

"Lisa, have you lost your mind? Andrea is an exceptional talent! What's wrong with making her vice president? And you picked on her in front of everyone? What will outsiders think of us? Apologize to her, now!"

My lower back slammed into the corner of the desk. The sharp pain drained the color from my face.

Exceptional talent, huh?

A year ago, Quinton had returned to his alma mater as a guest speaker.

Andrea had shamelessly texted him on social media afterward, claiming she had audited a few classes and counted as his junior.

He called her driven. He said that her family was poor, that she couldn't afford proper schooling, and that it wouldn't be fair to judge her education.

What he conveniently forgot was that I had also come from nothing. I clawed my way out of the mountains through studying, and only met him in college.

Before I could say a word, the room erupted. Voices piled on top of each other, all insisting I had been targeting Andrea.

Andrea sniffed quietly, her voice weak and trembling.

"Quinton, I know Lisa is upset because she doesn't want to go to Northreach. As long as she's willing to go there and help the company grow, I don't mind being picked on a little…"

Quinton sighed heavily.

"You're too soft-hearted. Lisa is only jealous of how young and capable you are."

He turned to me, his gaze icy.

"Apologize to Andrea, and make sure you mean it. Then I'll allow you to come back within a year. Otherwise, you can spend the rest of your life eating sand in Northreach."

He had forgotten how he used to cradle my face when we studied management together, praising me for being sharp and capable.

He had forgotten how I had given up my own promotion and handed him the CEO seat, how he cried as he promised to treat me well.

He always said the company needed fresh blood. So he took my accomplishments and handed them to Andrea, calling it an investment in loyalty.

Back then, I kept lying to myself, telling myself he was just ambitious.

Only now did I finally see the favoritism for what it was.

I smiled faintly, tore off my employee badge, and said calmly, "You're right. I pick on the weak, fear the powerful, and lack professional integrity. I'm clearly unfit to stay here. Whoever wants to go eat sand in Northreach's desert is welcome to do so."

With that, I picked up my cardboard box and walked out.

Behind me, Quinton snapped back to himself and barked, "Stop! I need to check what confidential materials you're taking!"

I was about to explain when he reached out, grabbed the entire box from my arms, and dumped its contents straight into the shredder.

"Everything here belongs to the company. You have no right to take anything with you. If you're leaving, then leave empty-handed."

He wanted to force me to lower my head.

What he forgot was that I had never been his subordinate.

And so, I had no intention of telling him that what he had just destroyed was the investment proposal that could have saved the company.

Back then, Andrea had miscalculated the units in a contract, costing the company more than 20 million dollars. Even after I convinced the other party to cut the penalty in half, the company's cash flow still collapsed into crisis.

After endless negotiations, I finally locked down an investment of more than 20 million dollars, just enough to drag the company back from the edge.

Quinton had no idea that, minutes earlier, he had tossed away the company's last lifeline, along with his own future.

Once I left the office, I called the investor and kept my tone as courteous as possible.

"I'm sorry about the inconvenience, Mr. Snyder. There's an issue with the company seal, so the contract needs to be voided for now. When would you be available to re-sign?"

Scott Snyder was a titan in the industry, someone who rarely showed his face in public. If I hadn't once saved his life during a heart attack, our paths probably never would've crossed.

To my surprise, the old man sounded genuinely puzzled.

"I thought you were being transferred to Northreach. I saw your company's announcement. It said all of your accounts are being handed over to a young woman, Ms. Roffe or something."

I went still.

In that instant, I knew Quinton had gone behind my back.

I steadied myself and forced a light laugh. "That must be an internal mix-up. I'm staying put and continuing to handle your account. Even if I ever did take a trip to Northreach to relax, I'd let you know well in advance."

Scott chuckled. "Alright, then. I'm free tomorrow."

After ending the call, I swallowed my anger and unlocked my phone, only to be hit by a flood of messages.

Clients were asking why I was being sent to Northreach and when I planned to return.

When I opened the screenshots they sent, it became clear that Quinton had posted on social media, announcing my transfer and instructing everyone to contact the newly appointed vice president, Andrea.

I hadn't seen the post at all. He had clearly hidden it from me.

Without hesitating, I made my own post.

I attached a screenshot of Quinton's announcement with a massive "FAKE" stamped across it.

The caption read, [I'm still here. Please don't be misled. For business matters, feel free to contact me directly!]

I was replying to clients one by one, my fingers shaking with exhaustion, when Quinton's call came through. His voice was clipped and irritated.

"Lisa, take that post down immediately. Do you have any idea how many people are calling Andrea a fraud and unfollowing her? She's crying right now.

"You're leaving anyway, so what's the point of clinging to these clients? She came from nothing and didn't have it easy. If you had even a shred of decency, you wouldn't do this to her. Delete the post now, or I'll officially terminate you. Don't come crying to me then."

The way he shielded Andrea almost made me laugh.

"Andrea's had a hard road. So have I. Who hasn't? I built these relationships by grinding day and night, entertaining clients, doing their laundry, cooking meals, driving their kids around, and even helping them sort out family messes. And now you expect me to just hand everything over to Andrea? Not a chance."

Quinton stalled, unable to refute it. He finally replied in a cold, official tone, "If you refuse to comply with company restructuring, then we do not need an employee with zero team spirit."

He was trying to strong-arm me again.

This time, I answered calmly, "Perfect. Go ahead and fire me."

I ended the call, stopped by a nearby print shop to print the divorce papers, and headed home.

What I didn't expect was the sharp, spicy scent that hit me the moment I reached the door, like chili peppers burning in the air.

I pushed the door open.

At a glance, I saw Andrea in the kitchen, slipping off Quinton's apron while playfully poking his side.

Quinton stood there holding a spatula, laughing like he hadn't a care in the world.

Hearing the sound, they both turned.

Quinton immediately pushed Andrea aside and hurried over to me.

For once, he took off my coat and hung it for me.

"Why are you home so late?"