In her eyes, I probably ranked lower than a dog.

Just then, a message came in from one of my people.

"Mr. Dickerson, we've smoothed things over with the tax authorities on the Pruitt Corp side. But they're saying the company evaded a significant amount in taxes, and there's a major audit coming in the next couple of days. We'd need to put up twenty million to plug the gap."

I shook my head. "Forget it. Redirect that twenty million into the new project investment."

"But Pruitt Corp—"

"We're done cleaning up Pruitt Corp's messes."

After I was discharged from the hospital, I'd planned to head back down south.

But the trains had been suspended unexpectedly. Service wouldn't resume for another week.

With nothing better to do, I made my way to Pruitt Corp.

Back when Kathleen first started the company, I'd run myself ragged pulling in major clients for her, then handed them over without a second thought. Even when she later reassigned them to Dylan, I hadn't said a word.

During those early days, I'd heard the company was strapped for cash. I'd quietly funneled a deal worth tens of millions under Pruitt Corp's name.

I'd planned to tell her about it later, make it a surprise.

But now, there was no point.

Sales and Finance operated independently. The finance team would've assumed the project was something the sales department had landed on their own.

If I wanted to reclaim it, I needed to verify the revenue status first.

But the moment I walked through the doors, I ran into Dylan.

He strolled toward me, that familiar sneer curling across his face.

"Arthur, Kathleen said you had nowhere else to go, so you'd definitely show up here. And look at that—here you are."

He'd dropped all pretense now, fangs fully bared. I saw no reason to play nice either.

"You went through a lot of trouble for that VP title," I said flatly.

A smug grin spread across his face. "Can you blame me? You're better than me in every way. If I didn't get creative, I didn't stand a chance against you."

Then he leaned in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur.

"Oh, by the way—Kathleen already told the Galloways I'm their new point of contact. Day after tomorrow, I'll be sitting down with them to discuss the partnership."

His grin widened. "I heard the Galloways were the client you spent three years chasing down south. You finally landed them, brought them back, and Kathleen handed them straight to me. How does that feel, Arthur?"

When I was down south, I'd worked for three years to close the Galloway account. The first thing I did when I came back was hand it to my wife.

She'd turned around and given it to Dylan.

Standing there now, watching the petty triumph plastered across his face, a nameless fury ignited in my chest.

I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward.

But at that exact moment, Kathleen appeared at the top of the staircase. She saw everything.

"What the hell are you doing?!" she screamed. "Let go of him!"

She rushed over, shoved me hard, and pulled Dylan behind her like a shield.

Her eyes locked onto mine, burning with hatred, as if she were staring down her worst enemy.

"Dylan earned that VP position on his own merit, and you keep trying to hurt him! How did I end up married to someone so vicious?!"

Then she turned to Dylan, her voice shifting to something soft and urgent. "Dylan, are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

Dylan shook his head, playing the wounded puppy to perfection.

"It's fine, Kathleen. Arthur's just having a hard time accepting that I made VP. He's struggling with it, that's all."

He paused, his voice going quieter. "Please don't blame him."

Kathleen shot me one last look, heavy with disappointment.

Then she took Dylan by the arm and led him away.

I caught the tail end of her voice as they disappeared down the hall.

"Dylan, didn't you say you wanted a dog? I got you a Labrador."

I watched their figures vanish from sight, my gaze cold and still, before I finally looked away.

The office had emptied out by then. Everyone had gone home.

It took me hours of digging through files before I finally pinpointed the exact status of that project.

But in the process, I uncovered something else. A year ago, Kathleen had siphoned company funds to buy Dylan a yacht—all to keep him happy.

He sold it later, once the novelty wore off.

But the transaction had been buried—hidden from every official record.

I kept digging. I found several more cases just like it.

The amount of tax that had been evaded was staggering.

Last year, a friend had tipped me off that Pruitt Corp was involved in tax fraud. I'd spent an enormous amount of time and resources covering for Kathleen.

But this time, I wasn't going to stick my neck out for her again.

The train wouldn't be running for a few more days, so I checked into a small hotel to wait.

The following evening, Kathleen somehow tracked down where I was staying.

I'd barely stepped outside when they blocked my path.

The moment she saw me, she let out a contemptuous laugh.

"Without me, this is the best you can do? Some roadside motel."

"At the end of the day, you're nothing. A nobody who's never accomplished a single thing."

I ignored her and turned to leave.

But Dylan stepped in front of me.

"Arthur, come on, we're all family here. There's nothing we can't work out." He smiled, all warmth and reason. "I brought Kathleen to find you because I want to invite you to my inauguration ceremony."

"I already talked to Kathleen. I asked her to give you a zero-point-one percent share of the company."

"So stop making a fuss and come back with us. I don't like seeing you two fight."

Kathleen's voice was ice. "Arthur, Dylan is volunteering to give you a piece of his own shares. That's how generous he is. You should be grateful he's big enough to tolerate you."

"Zero point one percent?" I said.

"I don't need it."

I knocked Dylan's hand away. He stumbled backward on cue, hitting the ground. A scrape opened across his palm, blood welling up.

Kathleen exploded.

"Arthur, don't push your luck! If Dylan hadn't insisted I come get you, do you think I'd actually want you back?"

"You've bullied him for years, and now you have the nerve to put your hands on him right in front of me? I should never have bothered!"

"Since you don't want the shares, fine! You don't get them!"

"Let's see how long you last without me!"

Something about those words struck me as almost funny.

"You really don't hear how ridiculous you sound, do you?"

"When have you ever—even once—actually seen me bully him?"

"Every single time, all he has to do is say something, and you believe him without question!"

"And this time, you lied to me for three years just so he could waltz into the VP position. You erased everything I did for that company!"

"That's what you call support?"

"Shut your mouth!"

Kathleen lunged forward, her hand swinging toward my face.

This time, I caught her wrist. I pushed her back.

Dylan rushed to steady her, then turned to me with tears brimming in his eyes.

"Arthur, Kathleen has been so good to you. Is this how you repay her?"

"Apologize to her. Now."

Then he turned to Kathleen, pleading on my behalf.

"Kathleen, he didn't mean it. He's just upset that you gave me the VP position instead of him."

"Maybe I should just give the title to Arthur."

Kathleen stopped him, her expression dark. "Dylan, you don't need to speak for him."

"He's an ungrateful snake. That's all he's ever been."

Then she gave me her ultimatum.

"Arthur, I'm giving you one last chance. Tomorrow is Dylan's inauguration ceremony. You're going to show up with a proper gift, kneel in front of everyone, and apologize to Dylan. Do that, and you can keep your title as my husband. Refuse, and don't expect any mercy from me."

I lowered my head. A laugh shook through me.

"Well then, I suppose I should thank you for your generosity."

She smirked. "Of course. After all, I'm the one who gave you everything."

She took Dylan's arm and got into the car.

I watched them drive away, a cold smile on my face.

Then I turned and headed for the Galloways.

The next day, inside a luxury hotel.

Dylan Henson arrived at the ceremony in a tailored designer suit, basking in the admiration of everyone around him.

Kathleen held his arm, her gaze warm and tender. "Dylan, once you're officially named Vice President, you'll help me run the company."

Dylan nodded eagerly, then glanced toward the entrance.

"Kathleen, it's been a while now. How come Arthur still isn't here? He's not still upset, is he?" He paused. "Maybe I should give him a call."

Disgust flickered through Kathleen's eyes.

"Don't bother with him. I already gave him his chance. If he can't be bothered to show up, I'm filing for divorce."

The words had barely left her mouth when one of her employees rushed over.

"Ms. Pruitt, we have a problem. An IRS enforcement vehicle just pulled up outside our headquarters. They're saying the company has been evading taxes, and they need you to come in for an investigation."