After I spearheaded the company’s IPO, I personally generated billions in profits for my CEO wife.
Veronica excitedly promised me a car. But then, she rolled out a kid’s scooter from the garage, beaming,
Practice with this first, honey. When the company makes *real* money, we’ll get you a proper one.
Just moments later, I saw her on her ex-boyfriend Blake’s live stream, casually dropping millions to snag a global limited-edition vintage supercar.
On screen, she was draped around his neck, practically purring:
“This is the only thing fit for my baby’s status!”
I looked down at the scooter she’d given me, and suddenly, I burst out laughing.
With a flick of my thumb, I forwarded it straight to the company’s main WhatsApp group, tagging everyone.
Thirty seconds later, my phone practically vibrated off the table. Her voice, when it finally broke through, was a frantic, tear-laced shriek:
“Jake, honey, let me explain! That was just to get his dad’s investment! Pull it back now! I’ll buy you a real car tomorrow!”
But her promises? They were like a maxed-out credit card, draining every last drop of hope I had left.
I slipped off my wedding ring and gently placed it on the coffee table.
“Nine AM tomorrow. Don’t forget to show up for the divorce.”
On the other end of the line, Veronica’s voice rose, sharp and shrill:
“Are you out of your mind?! I told you it was to reel in an investment! What are you trying to prove here? The company’s making big money, aren’t you living comfortably too?”
“Divorce? Who are you trying to scare? Who do you think you are? Without me, Veronica, would you be where you are today?” “Pull that message from the group *now*! The whole company’s laughing at me; how am I, the CEO, supposed to show my face? Are you deliberately trying to humiliate me?”
“I’m telling you, don’t push your luck! Retract it now, immediately! Otherwise, I’m *really* going to divorce you!”
With that, she hung up before I could respond.
I looked at the ring on the table and silently closed my eyes.
In this marriage, I was truly exhausted.
Messages in the company WhatsApp group were still piling up, all supporting me.
“Veronica is totally out of line here. Is *this* how you treat the guy who made it all happen?”
“Blake’s got zero talent, but he gets a supercar? That money could cover our team’s bonuses for three freaking years!”
“Her ex is flaunting his wealth on TikTok, while we busted our butts getting this company public, and *this* is our reward?”
I scrolled through them, one by one, and chuckled.
Turns out, Veronica wasn’t upset because I embarrassed her; it was because her beloved Blake was getting ripped apart.
But they were right.
Her ex, Blake, was like a peacock constantly showing off, always circling around heiresses and wealthy older women, flamboyantly parading his supposed ‘family connections’ and ‘deep pockets.’
The truth? He couldn’t even read a basic financial statement, yet he’d brag at every cocktail party about ‘closing multi-million dollar deals.’
The most ridiculous part was when he visited the company last time.
Just because the Head of Sales didn’t *grovel* enough for him, he immediately convinced Veronica to fire her.
Everyone in the company came to me, begging me to intervene.
Veronica immediately ripped into me:
“‘The most important thing in this company is respect! If someone can’t even grasp that, they deserve to be fired!'”
Thinking about it, I couldn’t help but sneer.
The so-called “respect” was only for her useless ex.
Me, her husband, I worked my butt off to make her billions, and the “respect” I earned was a kid’s scooter.
My phone vibrated suddenly. It was a message from my team leader, Frank:
“Jake, the guys just went to bat for you.”
Seeing the flood of memes in the group, my mood lightened slightly. I was about to remind them to be careful.
Suddenly, a disciplinary notice from Veronica’s ex, Blake, popped up in the company WhatsApp:
“Anyone caught chatting in the group during work hours will have their monthly performance bonus docked completely!”
Every single name on that list was from the team I had personally built and mentored.
The group immediately erupted:
“Director Jake, Blake is clearly coming after you!”
“What’s the point of staying in this dump of a company?”
“If you leave, we’re all leaving with you!”
I clenched my phone. Seven years. From the very first fight we had about Blake, Veronica had unilaterally added him—an absolute outsider to our company—to the main group chat, even granting him administrative privileges.
She knew how much I valued loyalty and my team. But she deliberately let Blake harass them, just to spite me.
I dialed a number I hadn’t called in a long time.
“Hey, old friend, is that offer we talked about still on the table?”
A voice on the other end erupted with joy: “Of course! You finally came to your senses?”
“But I have one condition.”
“Name it!”
“I’m bringing my entire team with me.”
“Excellent! Double salary, same position, you can sign the contract tomorrow!”
I hung up and looked at the divorce papers I’d just pulled from the drawer.
Veronica had probably forgotten, but in the early days of our startup, we made a pact: if this company ever felt like a cage, either of us could walk away at any time.
I stared at Veronica’s signature from seven years ago.
Back then, she’d cling to my arm, her voice soft and sweet:
“Honey, we’ll never need this agreement. I just want you to know that in my heart, you’re more important than the company.”
But now? Everything was different. We were different.
The pen spun once between my fingers.
Without hesitation, I signed my name.
Then, I opened the company WhatsApp and sent a new message:
【Everyone, effective tomorrow, I am officially resigning.】
Then, I turned off my phone.
2
Early the next morning, I arrived at the company to find the CEO’s assistant stammering nervously at me.
I pushed open the office door, and Veronica was there, her face a storm cloud of fury, staring daggers at me:
“You actually show up for work? Didn’t you say you were resigning yesterday? Regretting it already?”
“Hmph, I called you *eighty-eight* times last night, and you didn’t pick up! Don’t think for a second I’m going to forgive you!”
“I’m going on a business trip for a few days, so I won’t be home! You can use this time to *reflect* on your actions!”
Just outside my office door, Blake, looking smug and dressed in some ridiculously flashy outfit, swooped in and grabbed Veronica by the waist:
“Darling, what should we have for dinner once we land in the Maldives tonight?”
I watched them walk away, and a cold laugh escaped me.
So, it wasn’t a business trip. It was a vacation with Blake.
Veronica almost drowned as a child; she’s always been terrified of the ocean.
When we first married, I suggested the Maldives for our honeymoon, but her fear was so profound we kept postponing it.
Now, for Blake? She was breaking every single one of her long-held rules.
Tears blurred my vision from laughing.
So true love really *can* conquer all fears.
It just turned out that after seven or eight years of marriage, I was never her true love.
Casting away the last shred of fantasy in my heart, I finalized the terms with my team and the new company.
At the restaurant, Frank clapped a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. “Jake, a boss as biased as Veronica? She’s just not worth your loyalty.”
I threw back a shot of whiskey, the fiery liquid burning a path down my throat.
I remembered meeting Veronica for the first time. She was a fresh-faced intern, wearing a simple white shirt, so nervous in the conference room that she’d even put her PowerPoint slides in backward.
Now, she was a woman full of lies, a master of manipulation.
And hadn’t I, in a way, created this monster by constantly tolerating her behavior?
In the early days of our startup, no matter how big a screw-up she made, one sweet word, one innocent look, and I’d melt, always forgiving her.
Eventually, she didn’t even bother pretending. She just used her CEO title to shut me down.
Now, for that ex, she could sacrifice me without a second thought.
“Tonight, we drink until we drop!”
I raised my glass, and my team members cheered in response.
At 3 AM, I stumbled through the front door. To my surprise, Veronica was sitting upright on the couch in the living room, perfectly poised.
She frowned and took two steps back:
“Jake! I hate drunks! Have you forgotten that?”
I chuckled.
Right. Because she hated the smell of alcohol, I hadn’t touched a drop in eight years.
But last week, in a SnapChat video Blake posted, Veronica was plastered, draped all over his shoulder. His caption?
“My baby’s even cuter when she’s had too much.”
She could even drink the alcohol she hated for her beloved ex, but now she was telling me she hated drunks.
Thinking about it, I looked at her, my gaze cold.
“Weren’t you supposed to be in the Maldives?”
Veronica tossed a blanket at me:
“How did you know? Never mind. It’s not important. I wouldn’t have changed my flight if I wasn’t worried sick about *you*!”
“But you? You’re out here partying like crazy with those annoying people from the company?! Didn’t I tell you to reflect?!”
She then pointed to the dining table.
“And I even bothered to bring you coffee from that shop you love.”
I used to constantly worry about her safety.
No matter how fierce our arguments, if I didn’t hear from her for over an hour, I’d immediately call to check.
But this time, I hadn’t sent her a single message for twenty-four hours straight.
She finally couldn’t sit still, could she?
On the dining table, there was indeed my favorite coffee.
The smell used to make my whole day, but now it just made my stomach churn.
This ‘stab you in the back then offer you a sweet’ routine? She’d perfected it years ago.
Too bad it wasn’t working this time.
Seeing my lack of reaction, Veronica’s tone softened slightly, but there was a suppressed, grinding anger beneath it.
“Honey, can we please just stop this? No more fighting. I’ll get you a real car right away—Porsche or Ferrari, you pick!”
I stared at the ceiling, then slowly spoke:
“Veronica, do you honestly still think I’m negotiating with you over a car?”
She frowned after a few seconds of silence:
“Then what do you want? Just *say* it! I’ll agree to anything!”
I smiled softly:
“No need.”
Then Veronica’s tone shifted abruptly:
“Then how about that new energy project you’re leading? Let Blake take over. After all, you *did* egg your team on to badmouth him, so consider it an apology!”
I scoffed.
So that was it. She waited up all night just to get a project for that deadbeat.
“Alright.” I said.
Veronica flashed a triumphant smile, as if she’d expected me to cave:
“See? That was easy. Just come back to the office tomorrow. I’ll call Blake, you apologize to him, and this whole thing will blow over.”
“I won’t hold it against your team members for what they said about Blake. We can go back to being a happy couple.”
I didn’t let her finish. I slapped my company ID badge onto the dining table.
“One project? That’s not enough. Tomorrow, I’ll hand over *all* my current work to him.”
3
Veronica’s face instantly changed:
“Jake! What are you talking about?”
“Blake’s family is *so* influential, Jake. It’s just a project. You’re giving it to him as a gesture.”
“Once his father’s investment comes through, our company will explode! And I’m just discussing this with you, what’s with the sarcasm?”
“Nothing.”
I turned and walked towards the bedroom.
Veronica lunged forward, grabbing my collar.
“Jake! You’re just jealous I bought Blake that car, aren’t you?!”
She shrieked hysterically.
“Don’t act like some martyr! A petty, calculating man like you isn’t even worth one of Blake’s pinky fingers!”
“Fine! I’ll just buy you one myself!”
Even now, she thought it was all about the car.
I calmly pushed her hand away:
“Keep that money, Veronica. Buy Blake a yacht.”
With a *CRASH*—Veronica hurled the entire coffee cup at the wall. Coffee splattered, a jarring brown against the pristine white.
“Blake and I are *nothing*! Your disgusting mind is so twisted, you don’t even deserve to be a VP!”
I looked at her face, contorted with rage, and suddenly found it pathetic.
Everyone else in the company called him ‘Mr. Blake,’ some even mockingly ‘Prince Blake.’ But *she* always used his first name, ‘Blake.’
And now she wanted to talk about innocence?
“Veronica,” I used her formal title, letting the coldness sink in. “Do I need to pull up the security footage? Last Wednesday night, how exactly did your ‘Blake’ end up in your office?”
Veronica’s face instantly went white, her carefully applied red lips trembling.
She suddenly raised her hand, but stopped it inches from my face.
Her freshly manicured red nails seemed to glint with a sinister, bloody light under the lamp.
“Hmph!” She stumbled back, her voice catching. “Give me back the scooter I gave you! I picked that out myself! You don’t deserve it!”
“Threw it away.” I cut off her theatrics. “This morning, when the cleaner came, I personally tossed it out.”
Veronica’s tears instantly froze in her eyes.
She stared at me, wide-eyed and disbelieving, as if seeing her husband of eight years for the very first time.
I turned and closed the bedroom door, hearing Veronica’s furious roar from inside.
“I’m leaving! I’m never coming back!”
But strangely, this time, my heart felt completely calm.
Turns out, when disappointment finally fills you up, even anger becomes redundant.
When I woke up, my phone was scorching hot from all the messages.
The company WhatsApp’s latest announcement displayed a new personnel change:
【After deliberation by the board of directors, Jake, Director of Operations, has been removed from his position and reassigned to Assistant Manager of Logistics, effective immediately.】
The reason for disciplinary action was explicitly stated as:
【Due to personal emotional issues affecting company unity.】
Even more ridiculous, the announcement bore Veronica’s digital signature, and the posting time was 3 AM—precisely the time her flight with Blake took off for the Maldives after they adjusted their schedule.
When I went to HR with my team to process our resignations, the new HR representative, Mr. Davis, fumbled with his phone, trying to call for instructions:
“Veronica, Director Jake and his team are…”
From the other end of the line, Blake’s artificially sweet voice purred:
“Veronica’s in the shower, darling. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
Then came Veronica’s impatient, irritated voice:
“Didn’t I say *not* to bother me today, no matter what?!”
“But Director Jake—!”
4
“Let him handle whatever he needs to himself! He thinks he’s so capable, why is he calling me?!”
Veronica’s voice suddenly sharpened.
“The company seal is in the safe! The password is his birthday! Do I really need to be bothered with such trivial matters?”
Mr. Davis hung up, his face flushed scarlet.
He nervously opened the safe, but froze when he saw the keypad.
The date displayed? It wasn’t my birthday. It was the exact date Veronica and Blake first met.
The resignation process was unusually smooth.
On my way to the courthouse for the divorce, I idly scrolled through Instagram and saw Blake’s latest post.
A nine-photo dump, with Veronica in a sexy bikini, intimately feeding him fruit.
The caption read:
【Some people take eight years to do nothing, others achieve more in eight days.】
Veronica’s old friends commented below:
“She introduced him to us three years ago, saying they were about to go public. Guess she finally decided to post about it on SnapChat today.”
All these years, Veronica had always made excuses about being too busy to introduce me to her friends.
But in truth, three years ago, she was already introducing Blake as her husband.
I silently liked her post on my phone.
Veronica’s international call came through immediately.
“Jake, what are you doing liking my post in the middle of a workday? Don’t you have a job?!”
“And why are your team members liking it too?”
“I’m half tempted to dock all your salaries!”
I laughed into the international call.
“Forgot to tell you. My team and I have already resigned.”
Veronica paused, then asked incredulously:
“What kind of game are you playing now to get me back?”
“I’m busy with *real* work, Jake. I don’t have time for your childish games!”
She certainly was busy.
Busy dating Blake, busy making their relationship Instagram official to her college friends.
And busy punishing me and my team.
Blake, still on the line, stoked the flames:
“Veronica, he’s doing this to disrespect you. Quitting himself is one thing, but taking all your top talent? He’s trying to destroy you!”
Before he finished speaking, her friends, seeing my ‘like,’ chimed in with their own comments:
“We all heard from Blake. Even if Jake *is* your husband, he’s just a pathetic loser at home. Blake does all his work at the company! Someone like that, if he doesn’t quit, you should’ve fired him yourself!”
“Honestly, Veronica, that loser needs to go. Blake is clearly your soulmate!”
Seeing their incitement and slander, Veronica, who knew the truth, didn’t bother to clarify for me. Instead, she sighed into the phone:
“Jake, for the sake of our years together, I’m giving you one last chance.”
“As long as you apologize, when we get back, I can offer you a position as Blake’s assistant. Otherwise!”
Otherwise, she would divorce me.
But this time, I wasn’t giving her any chances.
Before, whenever she was about to utter those two words, I’d panic, begging her not to divorce me.
But now, I calmly sent a photo of our divorce certificate to her comments section:
“Allow me to announce, we are officially divorced.”
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