Married to a Woman Obsessed With Her Boy Toy

I'm the best plastic surgeon in the industry. Hendrick Twain is a regular customer of mine who has gotten his manhood enlarged nine times via surgery.

But after I performed the latest surgery on him, he decides to linger around in my clinic instead of leaving. He keeps showing off his brand-new luxury watch while gloating to me, "Isn't this watch pretty, Dr. Yard? Winona was the one who gifted it to me."

Upon noticing my lack of reaction, Hendrick approaches with a smile on his face. Then, he lowers his voice.

"What's the use of preserving your chastity, anyway? Winona prefers to be with a plastic hunk like me, who's gone through nine manhood enlargement procedures, than be with you, Mr. Au Naturale."

As I stare at Hendrick's face, which has gone under the knife countless times for minor adjustments, I remember the excuses Winona Grahm made to my face every night to avoid going home. Just the memory makes my gut churn in disgust. All of my grievances and disgust turn into ice at that moment.

Finally, I take the wedding ring off my ring finger and place it on the desk gently. Then, I grab my phone and dial the number, which I haven't called in the past three years.

"Dad." I sound eerily calm on the phone. "Since Winona thinks marriage is nothing but a joke to her, then there's no need for the Grahm family to continue existing in this world."

After hanging up the call, I watched the expression on Hendrick Twain's face shift from smug satisfaction to bewilderment.

But the very next second, a laugh escaped him.

"Jeffrey, who are you trying to fool? You're just a plastic surgeon! And you're thinking of bringing down the Grahm family, one of Provenia's elite families?"

Indeed. I was technically just a plastic surgeon. But that was only because when I first met my wife, Winona Grahm, she was pretty much a nobody.

That was why I, Jeffrey Yard, scion of one of the true old-money dynasties, hid my identity for her sake and chose to pretend to be just another ordinary person working in a small-scale plastic surgery hospital.

But as a result, Winona genuinely believed I was nothing more than a pitiful, insignificant husband she could trample whenever she pleased.

I calmly gathered Hendrick's medical file and waved it at him. "Mr. Twain, this is your last procedure here. I'll be keeping your records as a case study for future reference."

Hendrick's eyes slowly widened. "Jeffrey Yard! What are you playing at? Are you threatening me with my medical records? Have you no professional ethics?"

He lunged forward as he shouted, trying to snatch the folder. I sidestepped smoothly and pressed the emergency call button.

As the security guards rushed in, I said coldly, "This gentleman is harassing a doctor. Please escort him out."

The next moment, they had his arms pinned in iron grips and hauled him toward the exit. He thrashed and shouted the entire way, but no one paid him any attention.

I signaled to one of the guards to pick up the briefcase Hendrick had dropped amidst the struggle. Then, I walked to the window.

I watched as he was unceremoniously dumped outside. His briefcase was hurled after him, smacking him square in the face. For the first time in a long while, I allowed myself a genuine smile.

All this while, I had stood by Winona as she climbed her way to the top, secretly funneling resources from Yard Corporation to prop up her empire.

In return, she used the wealth and luxury I gave her to keep a flashy, pretty little boy toy on the side. And now, her boy toy had the audacity to strut in front of me like he owned the place.

After some time, I returned to my desk and pulled open the bottom drawer. Inside lay a yellowed document. It was the prenuptial agreement I signed with Winona years ago. As my eyes traced the third clause, my fingers tightened on the paper's edge.

"In the event of infidelity by the Wife (Winona Grahm), all shares in Grahm Corporation held in her name shall be automatically transferred to the Husband (Jeffrey Yard)."

I'd had enough, Winona. It was time to end this farce.

…

When I returned home with the documents, Winona was seated on the couch in the dimly lit living room. The moment she saw me, her eyes lit up, but her voice dripped with contempt.

"Henry called me. He was very worked up and said you humiliated him. When did you become so petty, Jeff?"

It was the same blind, baseless interrogation I'd heard countless times since Hendrick entered the picture.

When Hendrick had a rejection reaction after one of his procedures at the hospital, Winona demanded to know if I'd deliberately used substandard products.

When he crashed her car, she immediately accused me of tampering with it.

Even when he deliberately ingested an allergen just to play the victim and win her sympathy, she accused me of forcing him to do it. I was done enduring her endless favoritism.

I pulled out the divorce papers and a copy of the prenuptial agreement, slapping them both onto the coffee table. "Winona, we're getting a divorce. Sign this, take your innocent young lover, and get the hell out of my sight."

Her eyes widened sharply at the sight of the papers. But when she turned to look at me, she laughed scornfully. "Divorce? Have you lost your mind, Jeffrey? What would you live on without me? That pathetic salary from your job as a plastic surgeon?"

Then, it all finally hit me when I saw the sneer on her face. From the very beginning, she had only ever seen me as an accessory. A dependent husband who couldn't leave her, no matter how openly she cheated because I was too reliant on her to ever walk away.

I was just about to tell her the truth. But before I could get a word out, the door's fingerprint lock beeped.

"Winnie!"

Hendrick burst in, throwing himself into Winona's arms, his face a mask of grievance. "He… he went and told everyone at the hospital about us! I'll never be able to show my face there again!"