Jordan trembled from head to toe.

"Boss, what... what do you mean by that?"

"There's really nothing going on between me and your wife."

Whispers began rippling through the crowd around them. I couldn't make out every word, but the gist was clear enough: they thought I was being petty.

The whole company knew the story.

Not long ago, Myra had taken Jordan abroad on a market research trip. They'd had the misfortune of running into a group of armed muggers. Jordan had thrown himself into the fray without a second thought, fighting off the attackers to keep Myra safe. She'd walked away without a scratch. He'd been hospitalized with serious injuries.

He still hadn't fully recovered.

As Myra's husband, I should have been falling over myself with gratitude. The man had risked his life to save my wife. But instead of thanking him, I was humiliating him in front of the entire company. Accusing the two of them of having an affair.

"You don't owe him an explanation!"

Myra's gaze was cold enough to freeze the air around her. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet.

She fixed me with a stare that could cut glass. "If this is about the million dollars, I'm not afraid to say it in front of everyone."

And she did.

She announced, right there in front of the whole crowd, that she'd given Jordan a million-dollar bonus. The room buzzed with shock and envy. Lucky bastard, some of them were probably thinking.

And just like that, everyone understood why I'd suddenly turned on Jordan.

It was about the money.

Some people got it. A million dollars was a million dollars, not pocket change.

Others thought I was being small. Jordan had put his life on the line to protect my wife. The fact that he'd survived was pure luck. Myra rewarding him with a million? That was perfectly reasonable. It just proved she had more class than I did.

She knew how to show gratitude.

After a moment, Myra challenged me. "Or does my life not even mean a million dollars to you?"

I said nothing. I just watched her perform.

"Ma'am, I don't think the boss meant it that way..."

Jordan tried to speak up for me.

Myra shot him a look so vicious he flinched, then turned back to me with a frigid smile. "Luke, you went to all this trouble to stage this little scene. It would be rude of me not to play along."

With that, she stepped forward, took Jordan's face in both hands, and kissed him full on the mouth while every single person in the room watched in stunned silence.

The hall went dead quiet.

The only sound was Jordan's ragged breathing.

The kiss lasted a full ten seconds before Myra finally pulled away.

"Boss, I—"

Jordan looked like he was about to cry. His panic was written all over him. His hands didn't know where to go, his eyes darted everywhere, his whole body rigid with the look of a man who'd just committed an unforgivable sin.

Some people envied him. He'd actually gotten to kiss the boss's wife.

Others pitied him. Sure, he'd kissed her, but it also meant he was about to lose a very comfortable job.

"Are you satisfied now, Luke?"

Myra's crimson lipstick was noticeably fainter than before. The deep kiss had transferred some of it onto Jordan's lips.

I clapped slowly. "Very."

"So now you're going to accuse me of cheating," she said.

"Then ask for a divorce."

"And demand I leave with nothing?"

In answer to her challenge, I shrugged and signaled my assistant, who stepped forward carrying a set of divorce papers that had clearly been prepared well in advance.

"The terms are laid out in full," I said. "Read them carefully. If you have no objections, sign, and it takes effect immediately."

My words hit the room like a bomb.

The whole place erupted.

"Cobb came prepared for this."

"The boss called it. She was right all along."

"That's ruthless. He set her up, plain and simple."

"We all watched him order her to kiss Jordan for ten seconds. Now he's using that as grounds for divorce?"

"If you ask me, he's got someone on the side."

"You even need to guess? Obviously."

"Men who've moved on are the cruelest kind."

While the crowd buzzed with speculation, Myra read through the divorce agreement, her entire body trembling.

Then she hurled the papers at me.

"Luke! You're offering me one percent of the company after the divorce?" She was shouting now. "What is this, a tip for a beggar?"

The crowd was stunned all over again.

Everyone knew the company's rise would have been impossible without Myra's effort and support. By any reasonable standard, even if we divorced, it should have been a fifty-fifty split.

Yet I was offering her one percent.

She wasn't wrong. It was practically an insult.

"And what's this clause about 'marital infidelity'?" she demanded. "You're seriously going to use that kiss just now as proof that I cheated? Do you think I'm that easy to push around, or do you think the judge is an idiot?"

She straightened her spine. "You want this divorce so badly? Fine. I'll agree. But I get half the company. Otherwise, don't even dream about it."

Everyone thought she had a point.

Jordan, meanwhile, put on his most righteous face. "Boss, I swear on my life, if there was ever anything inappropriate between me and your wife, may God strike me dead. May I never have children. May I—"

My gaze drifted toward him, slow and deliberate.

The next second, I drove my foot straight into his groin.

"AGHH!"

The scream that tore out of him made every person in the room flinch. Jordan crumpled to the floor, his body curling inward like a boiled shrimp. He shook violently, cold sweat beading across his forehead, his face twisted in agony.

That kick was aimed to make his little oath come true.

How much it actually hurt? Only Jordan knew.

"Luke... you..."

Myra saw Jordan writhing on the ground, clutching himself, howling in pain.

Her face went white.

She let out a furious shout, then dropped to her knees beside him without a second thought, not even caring that her dress rode up. Her hand reached for Jordan's waistband, ready to check the damage.

But halfway there, her fingers froze.

She realized, all at once, how frantic she looked. How obvious. A man and a woman, after all. If she pulled down his pants in front of everyone, she might as well stamp "affair" across her own forehead.

The room went still.

No one had expected me to kick Jordan. And certainly not there.

What shocked them even more was Myra's reaction. The panic. The way she'd nearly undressed him in front of a crowd without thinking twice.

Anyone with eyes could see it. That kind of instinct didn't come from a casual working relationship. Something deeper was at play.

I stood there watching her, a faint smile on my lips.

Myra's expression had gone rigid, her eyes cold as glass. One hand still gripped Jordan's, asking if he was okay. The other hand balled into a fist at her side as she lifted her head and glared at me with pure venom.

"What is wrong with you, Luke? What did Jordan ever do to deserve that?"

"Aren't you afraid you've crippled him?"

"How are you going to compensate him for that?"

I glanced at Jordan, still writhing on the floor, drenched in sweat. A cold smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. "He's the one who asked to have his bloodline cut off. Everyone here heard him."

"I was simply granting his wish."

The words had barely left my lips.

Myra shot to her feet and jabbed a trembling finger at me, the tip nearly poking me in the eye.

"Luke, you're twisting his words and you know it."

"All these people heard him!"

"He was swearing an oath to prove his innocence."

"And you used that as an excuse to kick him."

"That's assault!"

"If I call the cops on you, your life is over!"

Watching my own wife fly into a rage to defend another man—

A bleak chill settled over my heart.

The love I'd given her.

She'd turned it into a weapon, a license to trample me and betray me.

A woman like that, ungrateful no matter how much you gave her.

She deserved everything that was coming.

The warmth drained from my eyes. "I wasn't planning to go this far. One percent of the company's equity. The annual dividends alone would've been enough to live on. You wouldn't have ended up begging on the street."

"But now? I've changed my mind. You won't see a single share. Not even that one percent."

"On top of that, you're going to repay every cent you siphoned from the company. Three and a half million dollars, principal and interest, all of it."

"I'm giving you one week."

"If I don't see the money by then, you'll rot in prison."