I was in a private club, deep in business discussions with a client, when my wife stormed into the room, clinging to her male assistant.

She was clearly drunk, leaning against him as if he were the only thing keeping her upright.

Before I could say a word, she turned on me, accusing me of following her.

Then, with a sneer, she insisted that they shared nothing more than a professional relationship and mocked me for being petty.

When my client stepped in to defend me, both she and her assistant lashed out at him, their reckless outburst nearly costing me a major deal.

I didn’t argue. I didn’t waste another breath.

Instead, I chose the simplest solution: I filed for divorce. That was when her family panicked.

——

"Mr. Gibson, with your industry connections, it’s a shame you’re only a sales manager. I almost feel bad for you."

"As long as you agree, the position of our company as President in Canada will be yours.”

Seated in a private room at Nova Pavilion, he raised his glass to me again, sincerity etched in his every word.

I met his gaze and lifted my own glass with a faint smile.

"I’ll consider it," I said evenly. "But Mr. Tucker, let’s sign the contract."

Once this export deal was sealed, I could finally take a well-earned break.

There were still matters I needed to handle during this break. Just then, the door to the private room swung open.

"This is Hyacinth Duncan, the president of Berry Trading, and Nova Pavilion won’t even offer her a private room?"

The man who spoke was tall, moderately handsome, but carried himself with an air of arrogance, too smooth, too self-assured.

In his arms was none other than my wife, Hyacinth Duncan.

She was clearly drunk, her body swaying, and yet, her grip on his waist was tight, possessive.

That man was her assistant, Zavier Perkins.

"Tobias, what are you doing here?"

There was something almost accusatory in Zavier’s voice as if I were the one intruding.

I met his gaze and smiled, not a trace of emotion crossing my face.

"Discussing business."

For a businessman, controlling one’s emotions was second nature.

Even when being betrayed.

Rumors had already been making rounds in the company; after all, Hyacinth had barely even bothered with an excuse when she rewarded Zavier with a Maserati under the company’s name.

I had even confronted Hyacinth about it, telling her plainly, if she had fallen for someone else, she should just be honest. We could part ways with dignity.

But she had sworn, without hesitation, that she and Zavier were completely innocent.

To prove it, she had even sworn on her life.

And I had believed her until now when I saw the truth unfold before my very eyes.

At the sound of my voice, Hyacinth shoved Zavier away, panic flickering across her face.

But instead of explaining, she turned on me, her voice sharp with accusation. "Tobias, are you following me?"

I let out a slow breath, keeping my tone steady. "Think before you speak."

I gestured toward the table laden with food and drinks. "I have a business meeting here. I’ve been sitting at this table for nearly an hour. Do you really think a stalker would arrive before the person they’re supposedly following?"

Arnold Tucker quickly interjected, his expression somewhat awkward. "That’s right, President, Tobias and I have been here for quite some time."

His discomfort was obvious; after all, even a fool could see what was really happening.

But I caught the flicker of excitement in his eyes.

He was waiting for my downfall, hoping my divorce would push me straight into his hands, an easy opportunity to poach me for his company.

"What the hell do you think you are? Does Hyacinth need you to speak for her?"

Zavier jabbed a finger at Arnold, his tone dripping with contempt, before turning to Hyacinth.

"Hyacinth, I bet Tobias already knew you were coming here. He knew you liked this private room, so he planned this whole act, waiting here just to humiliate you."

Hyacinth’s expression shifted instantly, her anger flaring.

"Tobias, you’re disgusting!" she snapped, her voice rising.

She didn’t hesitate, didn’t even stop to think; she simply swallowed Zavier’s words whole as if they were gospel.

Pointing at me, she shouted, "I never thought you’d be this petty! How many times do I have to say it? Zavier and I only have a superior-subordinate relationship, but you refuse to trust me at all!"

At that moment, Arnold’s expression turned ice-cold, a flash of murderous intent flickering between his brows.

He had made his fortune in the import-export trade, navigating the most cutthroat foreign markets. In his early days, he was a man who danced on the edge of a knife, unafraid of bloodshed.

I pressed down on his hand, giving him a subtle nod before rising to my feet. Without a word, I strode toward Hyacinth and Zavier, stopping right in front of them.

Zavier pointed at me, saying, "What, feeling exposed now? Embarrassed that I called you out?"

Hyacinth’s glare was sharp. "Tobias, do you not trust me?"

Even now, she dared to ask about trust.

"Trust?" I exhaled slowly, loosening my tie as my gaze turned glacial. "That’s irrelevant."

I looked directly at Zavier. "The real issue now is that you need to apologize to Arnold."

"Me?"

Zavier scoffed, tilting his head in amusement. "Apologize to him? Tobias, I’m Hyacinth’s special assistant, and he’s just a client of yours, a mere sales manager. Does he even deserve my apology?"

"I’ll make sure you apologize."

I nodded once as if considering his words. Then, without warning, I grabbed his hair and flung him aside with minimal effort, like tossing out the trash.

Before Zavier could regain his footing, I drove my foot into the back of his knee, forcing him to collapse onto the floor, kneeling before Arnold.

Without hesitation, I grabbed a wine bottle, shattered it against the table, and pressed the jagged edge against his face. My voice was dangerously calm. "This is your last warning. Apologize, or I’ll ruin you."

"Sorry, Mr. Tucker!"

Zavier stammered, his entire body trembling. His fear was so overwhelming that he lost control of himself, and to my utter disgust, he even wet his pants.

Arnold remained silent. He merely stood, adjusted his suit with precision, and cast me a look of admiration. "Mr. Gibson, my offer stands. Call me whenever you’re ready. I’ll leave you to settle your family matters."

With that, he left.

"Ah!"

Hyacinth shrieked and rushed to Zavier’s side, crouching beside him with wide, frantic eyes. Fury burned in her gaze as she glared at me. "Tobias, have you lost your mind? How dare you hit Zavier? Even if you’re jealous, this is too much!"

"Jealous?"

I exhaled slowly, sinking back into my chair. Taking my time, I picked up a silk napkin and wiped my hands, my movements calm, unhurried, completely indifferent.

"You misunderstand, Hyacinth. I’m not jealous. I hit him because he disrespected my client. Every connection I make is valuable, and I protect what’s mine. Nothing more, nothing less."

Even now, I felt nothing. Not a flicker of emotion.

Did I not love Hyacinth?

Of course, not.

Otherwise, why would I step aside after years of struggle, handing her the presidency of the company I built from the ground up just to preserve her pride?

But I was a rational man. The moment a marriage became tainted, I severed it without hesitation.

"Why aren’t you jealous?"

Hyacinth’s voice wavered, her expression dazed as if she couldn’t grasp the reality before her.

I cast her a cold glance. "Hyacinth, when I loved you, you were the moon in my sky. But the moment you became dirty, you were nothing more than filth in a ditch. And no one gets jealous over filth."

Her face paled. "You’re calling me filth? No, are you saying… you don’t love me anymore?"

Fear flickered in her eyes.

I lit a cigarette, exhaling as I crossed my legs. "Hyacinth, we’ve been together for seven years. You should know me by now. Even if my younger brother wore my clothes, I wouldn’t want them back. Do you think I wouldn’t be disgusted by a woman who’s been touched by someone else?"

With that, I stood up, done with this farce.

"I haven’t been touched by anyone!"

She lunged forward, wrapping her arms around me from behind. Desperation seeped into her voice. "Husband, you misunderstood! Zavier and I didn’t do anything. I was just drunk; he was only helping me!"

A wave of revulsion rolled through me. My fingers slackened, letting the cigarette slip.

The ember landed on the back of her hand. With a sharp gasp, she let go.

"You were already in his arms. Do you really think an explanation still matters?"

"I’ve been drunk countless times while handling business. Have you ever seen me needing a woman’s support?"

Hyacinth’s lips trembled, but I didn’t give her a chance to speak.

"I’ll have the lawyer draft the divorce agreement. Let’s end this."

"No! I won’t sign!"

She sobbed bitterly, but her feet remained planted in place—she didn’t even dare to chase after me.

Zavier rushed to her side, his voice full of arrogance. "Hyacinth, don’t be afraid. You’re the president of the company. If he dares to cause trouble, just fire him. What’s there to fear? A useless man living off you?"

Before returning to the company, I made a call to the shareholders.

When I arrived, the shift in the employees’ gazes was impossible to miss; they were hesitant and wary, almost as if they knew something I didn’t.

I ignored it and headed straight to my office.

Torin Payne, the vice president of the sales department, hurried in, handing me his phone. His expression was grim.

On the screen was the company’s group chat.

Zavier had tagged everyone, his message glaring back at me: [Sales Manager Tobias has been fired.]

So that was why they looked at me like that.

I leaned back in my chair, tilting my head slightly. A slow smirk crept onto my lips as I asked, "Tell me, brother, whose company is this?"

Torin slammed his fist on the desk, his voice filled with frustration. "This company was running just fine, but your wife turned it into a disaster. Everyone’s talking about how you’ve been cheated on and that Zavier is acting like he owns the place. If this keeps up, my family might just pull out our shares."

I leaned back, unfazed. "I can handle it. Get back to work."

Torin hesitated, then sighed. "If you're feeling down, let’s go out for a drink."

"Why should I punish myself with alcohol? I did nothing wrong. Relax, brother. I’ve got this under control. Besides, I already spoke with your dad on my way back."

Torin studied me for a moment before nodding. As he reached the door, he suddenly turned back. "By the way, Sylvie just got back from abroad. I still think you’d make a great brother-in-law."

I didn’t bother responding and went back to work.

By the time I finished my tasks, the sky had darkened. I had my driver take me home.

The moment I stepped inside, the rich aroma of food filled the air.

From the kitchen, Hyacinth’s cheerful voice rang out. "Honey? You’re home? I made all your favorite dishes. Go wash your hands."

I let out a slow, mocking chuckle.

At the entrance, a pair of men’s shoes sat neatly beside mine—Zavier’s.

Was this woman brain-dead?

She had the audacity to bring him here?

I changed my shoes and stepped inside, only to freeze at the sight before me.

Zavier stood in the kitchen, holding a piece of meat to Hyacinth’s lips. She smiled, radiant, savoring the so-called moment of intimacy.

The warmth in her eyes vanished the moment she spotted me.

"H-honey..."

Her voice trembled with panic. "Don’t misunderstand! I was just tasting the seasoning, and my hands were full, so I let Zavier help me."

“No need to explain."

My gaze swept over her—over them. Then I pulled out the divorce papers from my briefcase and placed them on the table.

"And by the way, you don’t need to call me 'husband' anymore."

Her breath hitched.

"Sign it. We’ll finalize our divorce tomorrow."

Hyacinth’s face went pale. She stared at me, disbelief clouding her eyes. "Honey… You really want to divorce me?"

"Tobias, you have no shame!"

"My Hyacinth has already lowered herself to cook for you. What more do you want?"

His glare sharpened. "I even personally came here to apologize! What else do you want? Don’t push your luck!"

Hearing that, I let out a low, amused laugh.

I shrugged off my suit jacket, unfastened my watch, and slowly loosened my tie, my movements unhurried. My gaze locked onto him, cold and indifferent.

"Zavier, do you really think you're that important?"

"You call this an apology?" I scoffed. "Do you think your apology has any value?"

"And what makes you think you're any better than me?"

"I'm the president’s special assistant—second only to one, but above thousands."