Before the signing of the multi-billion-dollar project, my wife reached out and adjusted her assistant's tie.

I slammed the contract down, stood up, and said, “Victoria, let's divorce!”

Her face changed instantly, and she shouted, “Lucas Chandler, what’s wrong with you?!”

“I’m doing this to protect the company’s image! You want a divorce over this trivial matter?!”

I sneered and loosened my tie.

“Yes. Just because of this trivial matter.”

——

Today was the day for negotiating and signing the contract with the Shaw Group.

This multi-billion-dollar project was the result of half a year of tireless effort, pleading my way to victory.

It was supposed to be an internal bidding process, but the outcome was already decided; the signing was only a formality.

Yet just ten minutes before departure, my wife, Victoria, casually reached out and adjusted her male assistant Ethan Carter’s tie.

“Your tie is crooked; that won’t do.” Her fingertips traced a suggestive line along his Adam’s apple. Ethan blushed and lowered his head. “Thank you, Ms. Lane!” The room fell silent, and all executives glanced at me.

“Bang!” I slammed the contract onto the conference table.

The intimate, lingering moment vanished instantly. Victoria’s expression changed, and she snapped, “Lucas, what’s wrong with you?!”

I sneered, “Do you think I’m blind? Anyone would think you two are a couple with that behavior!”

Victoria withdrew her hand guiltily but, provoked by my glare, yelled, “What nonsense! I’m doing this to maintain the company’s image!”

“Maintain the image?” I scoffed. “President Lane, so concerned about your image? Marketing Manager Willian Warren’s tie was crooked. Why didn’t you fix it?”

“Director David Zimmer’s shirt had two buttons undone, and you didn’t lift a finger!”

“And when it comes to Assistant Carter, suddenly President Lane must ‘maintain’ him personally?”

Executives bowed their heads, checking their own appearances. Victoria slammed her hand on the table.

“Enough! Lucas, don’t go too far!”

“Too far? Do I need to remind you? Last month, you ‘maintained his image’ by wiping coffee stains, last week by fastening his cufflinks, and today by touching his Adam’s apple! What’s next, ‘maintaining’ him in bed?”

Ethan’s eyes reddened with grievance. “Mr. Chandler, you’ve misunderstood. President Lane only sees that I’m a recent graduate and reminds her of her deceased brother. That’s why she’s given me special attention…”

“I’m sorry, if my presence makes you uncomfortable, I’ll resign right now!” He wiped imaginary tears, but Victoria grabbed him, her face dark.

“You did nothing wrong. Why are you apologizing to him?!”

Then she turned and slapped me.

“Smack!” The sound echoed through the room. My cheek burned.

“Apologize to Ethan immediately! Otherwise, you don’t need to go to the bidding! Ethan can do your job!”

This was the first time in three years she publicly humiliated me. Executives who disliked me sneered:

“Just because he’s President Lane’s husband, how many projects has he taken? Does he really think he’s capable?”

“Assistant Carter is young and promising, much better than those who climb the ladder relying on their wives!”

“President Lane did well! He should have been taught this lesson long ago…”

Faced with their taunts, Victoria actually gave in.

My heart ached, and I suddenly found it all ridiculous.

Three years ago, the Lane Group was on the verge of bankruptcy, and I led my team to save it.

I was responsible for 70% of the company’s performance, yet they had the audacity to call me a “parasite”?!

Ethan — a handsome newcomer who'd been at the company for only six months — was nothing but a "young and promising" insult!

I forced myself to leave, swallowing the ache.

"Fine, Victoria, let's divorce. I'll bring the papers later." Ignoring her protests, I took the elevator down to the garage.

Just as I unlocked the Maybach, Victoria caught up, snatched the keys, and thrust them into Ethan's hand.

"You're driving me today."

Then she turned to me, furious. "Lucas, don't think you can threaten me with divorce and get away with it!"

"Don't even think about driving the car I gave you until you apologize!"

I narrowed my eyes.

Victoria had been badly injured in a past accident and never learned to drive.

For three years, I'd driven her to work every day. This car had been a second wedding anniversary gift from her.

Back then, she cooed, "Only a cool car like this suits my most handsome husband!"

Now she wanted to hand it to Ethan?

Seeing his eager smile, I sneered.

"Fine. You want to drive it?"

I opened the driver's door, grabbed the safety hammer, and shattered the glass.

Amid Victoria's sharp, angry cry, she left without looking back.

Later, she called more than thirty times; I didn't answer.

That afternoon, I saw Ethan's Insta Moments post showing off the car.

In the photo, his young, handsome face smiled as he leaned against the car making a peace sign.

【Thanks for the encouragement, Victoria! Through wind and rain, I'll be your personal knight!】 Victoria replied: 【Keep it up, my knight!】 with a laughing emoji.

I downed a glass of hard liquor and gave a bitter laugh.

We'd been married for three years. I'd indulged her, spoiled her, and even handed her most of the company's shares.

Yet she kept trampling my dignity for this gigolo?

I set down the glass and dialed the number.

"Smash that car. Smash it to pieces — leave nothing repairable!"

The next day, Victoria stormed home, flinging ornaments from my desk to the floor.

"Lucas! Did you have someone smash Ethan's car?!"

I casually flipped through the divorce papers without looking up and asked, "Where's the evidence?"

She trembled with rage. "Who else could it be but you? Do you know how expensive that car is?!"

I looked at her. "Oh? More expensive than our three years of marriage?"

She stuttered, a flash of guilt passing.

"What are you talking about? If you hadn't forced Ethan to leave yesterday by threatening divorce, I wouldn't have had to buy him..."

I cut her off and handed her the divorce agreement.

"Sign it. I never meant to force him to leave — I only wanted a divorce."

"I wouldn't mind if you helped him take off his pants in bed after the divorce!"

She exploded, snatched the papers, and tore them into shreds.

"Lucas, there's a limit to this performance!"

"Don't forget: you owe your success to me. Without me, you're nothing."

"I'll give you one more chance. Pick a car from your garage and apologize to Ethan — or don't blame me for being rude!"

She slammed the door and left. Less than half an hour later, Ethan posted a video of my private garage on his Moments.

[So many luxury cars — which should I choose? So conflicted!]

I commented directly: [This gigolo is picky? I'm warning you: all my cars have GPS. If a single screw goes missing, who will the police believe — me, the owner, or you, this gigolo?]

Victoria called immediately to scold me. I hung up and issued the order:

“Go, smash every car that gigolo touched!”

An hour later, I anonymously posted a video online showing the garage being destroyed, captioned:

[I'm a germaphobe; I find anything others have touched disgusting.] The video was full of Victoria’s roars and Ethan's terrified cries.

Less than ten minutes later, my mother-in-law called, demanding an explanation.

I calmly recounted the events of the past two days.

“Mom, your daughter wanted to use my things to please her gigolo, and I refused. So I destroyed them. That’s perfectly reasonable, isn’t it?”

I expected her to scold Victoria, but after a few seconds of silence, she exploded:

“What’s wrong with Victoria giving her assistant a car as CEO? Even if she wanted a gigolo, it wouldn’t threaten your position!”

“How can you be so narrow-minded? You have no manners as a husband!”

“Victoria is incredibly unlucky to have married a spendthrift like you!”

I never expected her to side so strongly with Victoria.

“Mom, you’re such a virtuous wife—why didn’t you let Father-in-law bring mistresses home?”

“He’s unlucky to have married a narrow-minded shrew like you!”

Those words nearly made my mother-in-law erupt. After a few seconds, she snapped:

“Shut up! If he hadn’t threatened suicide three years ago, I’d never have let Victoria marry such a scumbag!”

Seemingly afraid I’d say more, she hung up quickly.

I gripped my phone, my mind drifting back three years.

The Lane family was near bankruptcy. Exhausted, Mr. Lane was diagnosed with cancer and had little time left.

He knelt in my father’s office, tears streaming down his face.

“Chairman Chandler, please save the Lane family… I can marry my only daughter to your family!”

My father hesitated, saying he feared he couldn’t help and that he had already agreed to a marriage alliance with the Shaw Group.

But when I saw Victoria’s photo, I resolutely refused the alliance, angering my father. Later, after discussing it with Lane’s father, I agreed to marry Victoria, concealing my identity, promising to save the Lane family business.

When my mother-in-law learned I had no background, she threw a tantrum, even threatening suicide to stop the marriage.

Only after Lane’s father threatened suicide did she relent.

For three years, I held my breath, determined to prove myself, and worked to save the Lane family business.

Yet they still saw me as someone who had climbed above my station?

Fine. I’d take back everything they were proud of.

My phone vibrated—it was my father.

“You brat! I thought you were great, but you can’t even manage a woman? You’ve disgraced the Chandler family!”

My heart ached. For three years, my father had said he’d sever our relationship.

But secretly, he had watched me. My uncles and aunts told me he often praised me at dinner, saying I inherited his stubbornness and had built a successful career on my own.

Because of him, no one in the Lane Group knew my true identity.

“Dad, I want a divorce from Victoria. I’m returning to the Chandler family next week!”

“Hmph! Smart enough to recognize your work ability, but terrible at judging character! Come back and learn from me!”

I smiled, touched, and hung up.

That evening, dressed for the charity gala, the boutique called.

They said Victoria had personally come to pick up my custom-made high-end suit and watch.

“Mr. Chandler, President Lane is so thoughtful towards you…”