After the New Year's Eve gala, my wife instructed her assistant to host the opening ceremony.

During the meeting, Gideon distributed red envelopes to every employee—except me.

I was about to step forward and question him when he suddenly smirked and mocked me in front of everyone.

"Desmond, you've been freeloading off this company for years. And now you have the nerve to beg for a red envelope?"

A hushed silence fell over the room. I simply smiled, unpinned my work badge, and called my wife.

"I heard that Whitaker Group of Companies is planning to fire me. Is that true?"

——

All eyes were on me. The phone rang several times before the call finally connected.

Everett's impatient voice came through the speaker.

"Desmond, what nonsense are you up to now? This meeting is crucial for the company. Can’t you wait until I get back?"

From the corner of my eye, I caught Gideon’s smug expression. I tightened my grip on the phone and responded firmly.

"No."

The next second, Everett snapped.

"Yes! I ordered Gideon to fire you. Are you satisfied now?"

I was momentarily stunned but quickly recovered.

"Give me a reason."

She let out a cold laugh.

"Reason? I am the chairman of Whitaker Group of Companies. Do I need a reason to fire someone?"

Her voice was sharp, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a blade.

"You’ve been the sales manager for three years with zero achievements. And you dare ask me why?!"

Even with my phone’s volume at its lowest, her words rang throughout the venue.

"Desmond, listen carefully! Whitaker Group of Companies does not keep useless trash!"

With that, she hung up.

The entire room fell into dead silence.

Then, Gideon stepped forward, his voice dripping with glee.

"Everyone heard it, didn’t they? Even Madam Everett herself called Desmond a waste. Why should we keep someone like that in the company?"

He smirked, reveling in my humiliation.

"I suggest you pack your things, head home, and take a nice long rest."

Then, as if struck by inspiration, he chuckled.

"If you’re a kept man, you should act like one. Don’t you agree, Mr. Delaney?"

I met his gaze with a calm, unwavering stare and sneered.

"So, according to Gideon, I’ve been nothing but dead weight here?"

Gideon let out a boisterous laugh, his face practically glowing with triumph.

But he had no idea—his laughter was premature.

"What else?"

Gideon sneered.

"At work, you're either glued to your phone or playing games. You know nothing about business. If it weren’t for your connection to the president, you’d have been fired long ago."

His voice dripped with disdain as he continued.

"Keeping dead weight like you in this company is a complete waste of resources."

I raised a finger and slowly wagged it.

"No, no, no. Gideon, I think you were right about most things, but there’s one point I disagree with."

My confidence seemed to catch him off guard. His smirk faltered for a moment.

"Oh? And what would that be?"

His gaze narrowed suspiciously.

"Don’t tell me… you actually believe Whitaker Group of Companies can’t function without you?"

I smiled, then nodded firmly.

"That’s exactly what I’m saying."

"If I leave, Whitaker Group of Companies will go bankrupt."

The moment the words left my lips, the previously silent meeting room erupted.

"Oh my god, this guy is delusional! Whitaker Group of Companies is one of the top 500 companies in the country. How could it collapse because of some insignificant manager?"

"Exactly! He only has this job because he married the chairman. He’s been sitting around doing nothing, collecting three years' worth of salary for free."

"Disgusting! How can a person like him even exist? A kept man, a leech—he should just disappear!"

The room buzzed with ridicule and scorn, but I simply smiled, unfazed.

Little did they know—reality was about to hit them harder than they could ever imagine.

The jeers and insults grew louder, but I remained indifferent.

Because every word I said was the truth.

Whitaker Group of Companies’s rise—from a small firm with just a handful of employees to a listed corporation with tens of thousands—was not thanks to Everett, as they all seemed to believe.

It was because of me. Or rather, the power behind me.

Theodore Whitaker, the true founder of Whitaker Group of Companies, had once traveled all the way from New York to London, just to ask me to marry his granddaughter. He held a marriage certificate in his hand—one that bore my grandfather’s signature.

I was young then, too naïve to understand love. I only thought that if my grandfather arranged it, he must have had his reasons.

Never did I expect that after supporting Whitaker Group of Companies’s meteoric rise, I would be cast aside as a useless burden.

The thought alone sent a surge of anger through me.

Fine. If that’s how they wanted to play, I’d go straight to Theodore himself and ask—was the Whitaker Family truly willing to turn against me?

And if he insisted on letting Everett remain as chairman… then I wouldn’t hesitate to drag the Whitaker Family back to where they were three years ago.

I turned to leave.

"Wait!"

Gideon’s voice rang out behind me.

"Mr. Delaney, you’re just walking away like that?"

Slowly, I turned back toward the stage, meeting his smirk with a calm gaze.

"What? Gideon, are you planning to treat me to dinner?"

He stared at me for a long moment before speaking.

"Before you go, leave behind everything that belongs to the company."

I narrowed my eyes.

"I already handed over my work badge. What else could I possibly have?"

Gideon sneered and raised the microphone.

"Take off your work uniform."

The room erupted once more.

Laughter, jeers, mocking whispers filled the air. Most of the employees watched with gleeful anticipation, while only a few—those who had once been close to me—cast uneasy glances my way.

It was pathetic. Just moments ago, these people called me "Sir Desmond." Now, not one of them had the guts to stand up for me.

So this was the so-called professionalism of employees in a top-listed company?

In my opinion, the Whitaker Family’s rapid rise over the past three years had been far too easy.

Gideon, growing impatient at my silence, clicked his tongue.

"Hey, Des! I’m talking to you. Are you pretending not to hear me?"

I smiled, looking at him with complete composure.

"What if I refuse?"

A flicker of irritation crossed his face before he scoffed, his eyes brimming with arrogance.

"You're the first person who's ever dared to talk back to me. I don’t know who gave you the courage."

He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice to a condescending drawl.

"Boy, even your wife doesn’t want you anymore. What right do you have to act high and mighty in front of me?"

I chuckled.

"Who told you that I needed to rely on Everett?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, Gideon’s lackeys immediately jumped in.

"Ha! Listen to this guy—talking big like he’s someone important!"

"Right? If you didn’t have Everett, you'd be nothing but a stray dog!"

"If Everett hears this, you’ll probably have to kneel on a washboard all night when you go home."

They laughed, enjoying the spectacle.

I said nothing. Instead, I calmly memorized every single one of their faces.

Then, I turned to Gideon, my expression unreadable.

"If I’m not mistaken, you and these clowns… you’re all in the same group, aren’t you?"

The laughter faltered—just for a moment.

As a sharp businessman, keen insight is second nature.

From the moment this meeting started, I had noticed how these people clung to Gideon, laughing at his every word, nodding along like obedient lapdogs. They had also received the largest red envelopes at the start of the year—so full they were nearly bursting.

The company had a clear policy: the annual start-up red envelopes were to be equal for everyone, regardless of rank or position. Yet, these people were different. It was obvious Gideon had manipulated things from behind the scenes.

And Everett, foolish as ever, had actually entrusted him with such an important position.

Even I, the true power behind this company, could hardly stand watching this farce unfold.

"You little bastard, what nonsense are you spewing? We have nothing to do with Gideon!"

"That's right! We just can't stand watching you leech off the company’s resources, so we spoke up!"

"What right do you, a kept man, have to question us?"

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. My sharp glare shut them up for a moment. Then, I smirked.

"I admit I’m indeed younger and more handsome than all of you," I said casually.

Then, my expression turned ice-cold. My voice, sharper than a knife, cut through the air.

"But I don’t appreciate being called a gigolo."

I took a step forward, locking eyes with them.

"I suggest you never use that term again."

"Because if I get angry, the consequences will be severe."

My sudden shift in presence made them stiffen. For a moment, they were speechless, their cowardice laid bare.

Gideon, seeing his lackeys falter, stepped forward with an ugly scowl.

"You little bastard, do you think I’ll let you get away with this?"

"You’re just a worthless bum who got fired. And yet, you dare to act all high and mighty in front of me?"

"Let me make it clear—today, I’m not just kicking you out of this company, I’m going to make you strip down and leave in shame!"

I almost laughed at how ridiculous he sounded.

New York’s business world was certainly more entertaining than London’s. At least here, I got to witness a clown show in broad daylight.

"Gideon, do your words represent the company?" I asked, my voice eerily calm.

Gideon waved dismissively. "Of course!"

"Boy, let me spell it out for you. Madam Everett is divorcing you. She never liked you—not from the beginning, not ever."

I smirked, unfazed. "Oh? Is that so?"

I tilted my head slightly. "Did Everett tell you that herself?"

Gideon sneered and nodded. "Obviously! You don’t actually think the chairman of a listed company would ever fall for a loser like you, do you?"

"If it weren’t for the old chairman forcing her, you’d have been kicked out ages ago!"

So my suspicions were correct.

The Whitaker Family thought they were strong enough now to abandon me. That they could just toss me aside after using me to build their empire.

But they had seriously miscalculated.

Did they really think they could betray me and walk away unscathed?

I had single-handedly built the Whitaker Family’s empire in just three years. With a single phone call, I could strip them of everything—reduce them back to nothing.

But where was the fun of ending things so soon?

No, this game was just beginning.

Gideon had no idea what was going through my mind. Seeing me stand there silently, he assumed I was scared. His grin widened, his arrogance grew.

"Hey, Des, everyone’s waiting. Are you going to take off your clothes, or should I have someone do it for you?"