Tyler didn’t let me off easy.

Last time, Oscar accidentally broke my watch. I barely frowned and she reacted by shoving me into the backyard pond. I wasn’t allowed to get out for a full day and night.

Fighting back tears of humiliation, I slowly knelt down in front of Tyler.

Oscar was still on video, watching from his end of the call as I bowed to the floor begging. He burst out laughing. Sharp gravel dug into my forehead. When I reached up to touch it, my fingers came away with blood.

Tyler giggled, trying to charm Oscar. “Now that’s more like it. That’s what I call a proper apology.”

“Ozy, don’t be mad anymore, okay? I’ll take you out for steak, buy you a new gift. I think Teddy’s learned his lesson.”

Oscar wasn’t finished. “No, Tyler, I still don’t think it’s enough!”

“Ozy, you’re still mad, right? What else should we do to punish him?” Then, like Tyler had completely snapped, she ground the heel of her shoe into my fingers.

Pain shot through my body like electricity, but when I opened my mouth to cry out, nothing came.

Oscar added, “Let’s have him sleep in the pig pen. Strip him down, make him walk home tomorrow.”

Tyler laughed into her hand like a schoolgirl. “Ugh, you’re awful… I love it.”

Her cousins didn’t hesitate. In seconds, they’d ripped off my clothes, leaving me curled up in a corner, doing whatever I could to hide what little dignity I had left.

After they ended the call, Tyler stood over me, looking at me condescendingly.

“Well, Teddy, you heard Ozy. You’ll be staying in the pig pen for a few days. When I’m in a good mood again, maybe I’ll let you out.”

I felt completely hollow. All I could do was clench my fists—trying to hang on to the last shred of self-respect I had left.

“Tyler,” I whispered, “I never thought you’d do this to me… After everything I’ve done for you… did it all mean nothing?”

For a brief moment, I saw a flicker of something in her eyes—maybe guilt, maybe memory—but it vanished just as quickly. Her cold, detached look returned.

“Whatever we had in the past doesn’t matter. Ozy’s the only one who matters now.”

“I’m done arguing with you. You stay here and think about what you’ve done. When you really understand your mistake, then maybe—maybe—you can come home.”

Tyler soon drove off afterward, leaving me behind like I was nothing. Just a naked man in a pigsty. My forehead and fingers throbbed with pain, the cold air biting at my skin. I was shivering, filth clinging to me like shame.

Then her cousin tossed a handful of slimy vegetable scraps over the fence. “Go on, eat up. This is what we feed the pigs here.”

He chuckled cruelly, then added, “Hard to believe, isn’t it? The great Mr. Campbell, sitting in my pigpen. You didn’t even look at me back when I asked to borrow money. Now look at you.”

I remembered how he used to gamble away everything. When he finally turned his life around, I bought him this land so he could start fresh with a small pig farm.

But clearly, to him, that meant nothing. One act of refusal, all those years ago, had turned into this deep, twisted grudge. Now, the very land I gifted him had become the place of my public humiliation.

The rotting scraps hit my shoulder, then slid off, mixing with the mud.

Trying to appeal to any shred of decency left in him, I called out weakly, “Brother, have you forgotten? If I hadn’t bought you this land, you wouldn’t even have this life!”

He crouched beside the pen, moonlight casting deep shadows across his bitter, contorted face.

“This land?” he spat. “You think that makes us even? If you’d just lent me the money when I needed it, I could’ve hit it big and bought a damn mansion by now.”

I trembled all over. Under the pale moonlight, his face—once vaguely familiar—now looked completely alien.

It turned out, just because someone acted kind to others, didn't mean they'd receive kindness in return.

"Stay right there and think about what you've done!"

I was left alone again in the pigpen.

Night fell. My stomach began to churn violently. The pain twisted deep in my gut. I'd always had stomach problems—an old condition made worse by the endless drinking I’d done to help Tyler win over clients.

Back then, Tyler used to set out my medication for me, always right on time. Now, ironically, the pain I felt was because of her.

The cramps spread like fire through every nerve in my body. With no one around for miles, I had no choice but to call her again.

She didn’t answer.

I tried seven times.

Finally, someone picked up. But it wasn’t her voice—it was Oscar’s. “Yo, Teddy, Tyler’s in the shower. What do you want?”

I clenched my fists, but the pain in my gut wouldn’t let up.

“Put Tyler on the phone.”

Oscar chucled. “Whoa, you forget your place or something? You’re talking to me like that? Keep it up and I’ll make sure things get a lot worse for you.”

In the background, I heard Tyler’s playful voice, “Ozy, can you grab me a towel?”

Then the call got even louder—Oscar had clearly walked into the bathroom with the phone still on. I heard kissing sounds, giggling, the slap of skin.

Tyler’s voice was breathy, “Ugh, why do you have to kiss me like that? I can barely breathe. You’re so bad...”

The sounds continued, noisy and intimate—like they wanted me to hear every second of it. My stomach twisted tighter.

Minutes passed before things quieted down. Then Oscar, like he’d just remembered I was still on the line, brought the phone to Tyler.

“Hey, your husband called. Forgot to mention.”

His laugh echoed through the speaker. In the background, I could hear water running and Tyler playfully scolding him.

I was curled up on a pile of moldy straw, soaked in cold sweat, stomach in full spasm.

“I... I think I’m having a serious flare-up,” I choked out. “Please... I need help...”

There was a beat of silence. Then Oscar’s voice, suddenly louder and mocking, “Tyler, your husband says he’s in so much pain he might die. Should we be nice and help him out?”

Tyler laughed with amusement, “Tell him to drink some of the pig trough water. Maybe that’ll flush out his system.”

Oscar burst out laughing.

“Great idea! Hear that, Teddy? Tyler says pig slop works better than medicine!”

I bit down so hard on my lower lip that I tasted blood before realizing I’d broken the skin.

The night wind swept through the pigsty, thick with the stench of manure. It filled my throat and churned my already ravaged stomach. The pain turned into a wave of nausea and I vomited violently—but all that came up was bitter stomach acid.

Then I heard their voices again. Somehow, they made me feel even sicker.

“Oh, almost forgot to share the good news,” Tyler said, her voice suddenly calm—almost cheerful.

“You know that big contract you’ve been obsessing over for years? I signed it over to your competitor yesterday. I mean, really… who would want to work with someone who eats pig slop?”

That deal had been three years in the making. I’d poured everything I had into it.

“Why?” I choked out. “Why, Tyler? Do you have any idea how much I gave for that project?”

All this pain, all this humiliation—I thought it would be worth it if I could just land that deal. Now, I had nothing.

Tyler was dismissive. “Oh please. It’s just one deal. Don’t be so dramatic. Ozy told me about a much better investment opportunity. So I put the money there instead.”

“Ugh, honestly… You and your stupid laptop, always working on those endless proposals. What’s the point? You’re not even worth one of Ozy’s toenails.”

Their laughter rang through the speaker, like none of this mattered.

“Oh right,” Oscar chimed in, “I accidentally deleted that proposal of yours. Your computer’s a piece of junk—it couldn’t even open the file.”

“I just did a little cleanup for you,” Oscar said, smug. “Your laptop’s all nice and empty now.”

That laptop… it held all my project files, confidential strategy documents—everything I’d worked years to build.

Oscar deleted all of it, just like that!

My fists clenched on instinct. I slammed one to the dirt floor. “Oscar, you’ve crossed the line. I’ll hold you legally accountable for this!”

His mocking laugh crackled through the speaker, slicing through the night. “Legally accountable? Look at yourself, Teddy. You’re covered in pig shit, crying in a barn like a stray dog. Who’s going to take you seriously?”

He held the phone closer to Tyler so I could hear her laughing too.

“If you so much as touch Ozy,” she sneered, “I’ll serve you pig shit for breakfast. Got it?”

My hand trembled around the phone, my knuckles pale with rage. The smell of manure and mold invaded my nose again, but it was the burning in my gut and the roaring in my heart that drowned out everything else.

I drew in a breath, forcing my voice steady, “Tyler, don’t forget—I’m still listed as the company’s legal representative.”

I paused, my voice shaking. “What you’re doing now—this is embezzlement. And leaking trade secrets. That’s a criminal offense.”

For a brief second, there was silence on the line. Then came a burst of harsh laughter.

Oscar’s voice was gleeful, “Oh, Mr. Campbell, you still think you’ve got cards to play? Buddy, Tyler transferred her shares to me weeks ago. The company’s mine now. Campbell’s out. Green’s in.”

The words hit like a hammer to the chest.

Tyler… she actually gave away the company?

Then it hit me—last month, when she’d been all sweet and affectionate, asking me to sign off on some “routine paperwork.” I was swamped with client deadlines. I didn’t even read the documents. I just… signed.

“You… you tricked me…” I could barely speak.

Tyler’s voice came through like a victorious queen claiming her throne. “That’s right. Those were the papers.”

“Why do you think I made you eat from a pig trough? I wanted to strip away every last shred of your dignity.” She added, “But hey, we were married once. So I’m feeling generous. I’ll give you… one last chance.”

Her voice stretched out slowly, each word coated in ice. “If you get down on your knees in front of the whole company… admit you’re worthless… and begged for Ozy's apology—I might let you stay on as a janitor.”

Oscar soon burst out laughing. Behind him, I could hear the soft clink of champagne glasses.

A sharp stab twisted through my stomach. I was in no condition to argue. Right now, I just needed to get treatment for the pain tearing through my gut.

“…Fine,” I said. “I’ll do it. But I can’t even stand right now. Can you come pick me up?”

There was a rustling sound on the other end—Tyler, probably getting dressed.

“Well, at least you know your place,” she said coldly. “Wait there. We’ll be there in thirty.”

Just before the call ended, Oscar sneered, “Should we bring some pig feed for him to snack on during the ride?”

Cold sweat ran down my back, soaking into my waistband. I forced myself to sit up, then crawl to the edge of the pen, clutching the rusted iron bars for support. Under the pale moonlight, the metal gleamed.

Three years ago flashed through my mind. Tyler was sobbing in my arms. She said her father had emptied her savings and disappeared. It was me who sold my share of the house to pay off her debt. I started the business with her from scratch.

She’d cried into my chest and said she’d never leave me.

That we’d build a life—together.

The memory punched me in the stomach. I doubled over, dry heaving into the dirt.

Soon after, headlights sliced through the dark. Tyler’s SUV pulled up beside the pigpen. Oscar sat in the passenger seat.

“Oh my God, Tyler,” he said, plugging his nose. “He smells disgusting.”

I forced myself upright, gripping the rusted bars. Sweat soaked my shirt.

Tyler took one look at me, recoiling a step. Her gaze landed on my knees—caked in filth and pig manure.

“Ugh, disgusting. If I’d known you’d look this pathetic, I would’ve left you here a few more days.”

She popped the trunk, rummaging around until she pulled out a giant trash bag.

“Here,” she said. “Sit on this. Don’t you dare mess up my car.”

“Mr. Campbell, you really do look like a stray dog now!"

Without warning, Oscar grabbed me by the collar. His metal watch dug painfully into my throat.

“You were so high and mighty in the boardroom and now you’re not even good enough to sit in the front seat?” He turned to Tyler with a smirk. “What do you think, sweetheart? Maybe we should throw him in the trunk?”

Tyler laughed as she pushed her sunglasses up onto her head, revealing perfectly arched brows. “Trunk’s broken. Don’t want him run away, do we?”

Their laughter rang in my ears like nails on a chalkboard. My stomach twisted violently and I doubled over, clutching my gut. Cold sweat trickled through my fingers.

Tyler sneered, giving the metal gate a few sharp kicks. “Cut the act. Get in the car. You’ve got a livestream apology tomorrow morning, remember?”

She pulled out her phone and waved it at me—on screen was the backend of the company’s official account.

“Three million followers can’t wait to watch the founder of Campbell Enterprises beg for forgiveness. Beats any ad campaign we’ve ever run.”

At that moment, all hope drained out of me. I’d had enough. After getting my stomach pumped at the hospital, I called a number I’d kept hidden away.

The call connected almost instantly. My voice was hoarse, “I’m coming back tomorrow. Shut down all of Tyler Powell’s projects. Every single one.”