On New Year's Eve, my husband, Max Davis, took me to a private dinner hosted by a big industry player. We had barely made our way around the room when a strange woman suddenly shoved me into the pool.

When I insisted on checking the surveillance footage and calling the police, Max firmly held me back. He warned me to "remember my place" and not embarrass him in front of everyone.

In the brief time I changed into another gown, I returned to find that same woman perched on my husband's lap, her red lipstick leaving traces on his collar.

"Max, you're right! That nasty scar on her stomach really does look like a centipede. It's so hideous!"

She giggled with mock innocence, adding, "It's been so fun messing with your wife. Next time, can I slap her when no one's looking?"

Meanwhile, Max gazed at her like she was the only woman in the world, gently tracing his finger over her nose. "Of course, you can," he replied, eyes still locked on hers. "I'll even tie her hands behind her back for you."

Beyond rage, I felt tears threatening to spill. After smoothing down my newly changed gown, I took a deep breath and steeled myself for what I was about to do.

Under Max Davis's stunned gaze, I stormed over and shoved the woman hard. She slammed against the wall before sliding to the floor, knocking over a wine glass that drenched her outfit.

As she screamed, I turned and slapped Max across the face. I said coldly, "Care to explain how you plan to tie my hands?"

"You're insane!" Max cursed, rushing to help the woman up from the mess.

She glared at me with pure hatred, but when she turned to Max, her expression transformed into a wounded innocence.

She remained silent, letting giant tears roll down her cheeks. Somehow, she managed to look heartbreakingly pitiful, and undeniably beautiful.

I grabbed a napkin from a passing waiter and threw it at her face. "Coco?" I let out a bitter laugh. "The assistant?"

Coco Hale flinched and retreated, prompting Max to step between us. He stated, "Suri, it was just a harmless joke. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? Stop being so petty."

Max added threateningly, "Think about how it would look if this made the news: 'CEO's Wife Assaulted An Employee'."

I retorted, "Oh, you're worried about bad press? I wonder what would make a better headline—me pushing an employee, or a CEO offering to help his assistant assault his own wife?"

Max's face turned crimson with embarrassment. "We work our employees so hard. Letting her blow off some steam by pushing you isn't a big deal. You weren't even hurt."

I laughed in disbelief, having never seen Max stoop so low. "Then why don't you let her push you around instead?"

Max frowned. "I told you it was a joke. She doesn't know you and pushed the wrong person. Let it go before you make an even bigger scene."

When Max tried to grab my arm, I pulled away, noting the irritation in his eyes. I demanded coldly, "Wrong person? Then why hasn't she apologized? What kind of assistant doesn't recognize the CEO's wife? Is she even qualified for the job?"

Max froze, knowing he had no defense. He could not utter a single word and could only shield Coco with his body while avoiding my gaze.

This business dinner was Max's idea. He insisted it was a chance to network with industry leaders and expand into overseas markets, so I agreed to come along.

After a full day of travel, we arrived at the hotel, and Max suddenly informed me that his "assistant" had messed up the reservation—there was no room for me.

At the time, I found it odd that a married couple would need separate reservations. However, Max had claimed he would be spending late nights with industry leaders, and it might be awkward for me to share a room.

Since the main hotel was fully booked, I reluctantly went to another one, even though it was inconvenient and almost made me late for the event.

Thinking back clearly, what kind of idiot would deliberately book two people from the same company in different hotels? It had all been part of her scheme.

Alas, I was stupid enough to believe Max's excuse about needing to have late-night discussions with industry leaders.

It was almost laughable.

Coco smirked at me from behind Max while he stood frozen, creating an unbearably tense atmosphere. However, I was not about to let these two get away with their betrayal.

"Was this your plan? Booking separate hotels just to give you two alone-time together?" I asked.

The moment those words left my mouth, Coco collapsed to her knees in dramatic tears, clutching Max's pants leg. "No, that's not true at all..." she sobbed.

Max quickly helped her up and snapped, "Suri, not everyone is as cynical as you! She's not manipulative like that."

It was almost funny how he still defended her instead of his lawful wife. "Stop with all this jealous nonsense. You're too old for this—grow up!

"I chose Coco as my assistant. Is it because she's younger and prettier than you? Why are you being so toxic about this?"

Max was actively insulting me to protect Coco.

Meanwhile, Coco leaned into Max's embrace. "Mr. Davis, please stop. Suri must just be having a bad day. I don't blame her..."

The irony was not lost on me. She called him 'Mr. Davis' but used my first name so casually. It was painfully obvious to everyone except Max, who seemed to eat up her act.

He did not even correct her.

Feeling emboldened, Coco suddenly stepped forward, acting kind and understanding. With a trembling voice, she mumbled, "Suri, I'm sorry. I know I can never make up for what I've done, so I…"

She began slapping herself hard across the face repeatedly, each strike echoing through the room.

"It's all my fault! I'm terrible, and I should be punished..."

I watched her award-worthy performance with cold amusement and thought she would have a bright future in film school.

"You're right about deserving punishment," I said coldly, which instantly set Max off.

"Suri, don't you dare! Have you forgotten how you had to grovel and slap yourself just for accidentally stepping on someone's shoe?" Max attacked me with my most humiliating memory.

Seeing my face turn pale, a flash of guilt crossed his eyes before he roughly pulled Coco up. He said, "You need to think about what you've done."

As they turned to leave, Coco suddenly swooned into Max's arms. "I..." she whimpered as Max immediately swept her up bridal-style.

Even while carrying her, he continued berating me. "Suri, you're always so bossy and selfish. Look what you've done to her!"

He then demanded, "Apologize now, and we can pretend this never happened. You can still be next to me."

"Go to hell." I stared at him icily, my nails digging into my palms.

Max finally understood my meaning and carried Coco away, both of them disappearing from the party. That night, I was left stranded thousands of miles from home.

While Max went straight back to the office, I spent hours thinking about everything from our past to our present, drowning in memories.

The memories were overwhelming, so much so that I nearly forgot to tell him something important—I was pregnant with his child.

It was already past midnight when I returned to the hotel. Gazing out at the glittering skyline of the city's central business district, I realized I did not want to go back to where Max was.

Without hesitation, I grabbed my phone and rescheduled my flight—to a private island this time.

After treating myself to a spa session, I fell into a peaceful sleep. Max had not tried to contact me all night.

The next morning at the airport, my phone started buzzing frantically. I glanced at it once and declined the call, but he kept calling until I finally put my phone on silent.

Before long, his messages flood in.

[Max: Suri, what game are you playing now? Hide and seek?]

[Max: You're being so childish!]

[Max: Act your age—these young girl games won't make me want you; they'll just make me sick.]

[Max: Stop trying to act cute. It's disgusting, got it?]

He hurled accusations at me from his high horse, yet he did not mention a word about leaving with another woman or staying out all night. The double standards were infuriating.

Ignoring his messages, I called my lawyer and asked him to draft a divorce agreement, emphasizing the need for absolute confidentiality. Nonetheless, I knew Max would not let me go so easily.

Max and I had known each other for 12 years and married for five. We were once a young, struggling couple, living in a tiny basement apartment with no windows.

I supported him when he built his company from nothing. In those early startup days, we could barely afford food, so I worked multiple jobs to support him. My coworkers looked down on me when they saw me picking through discounted produce at the grocery store after work, but I endured the humiliation.

The first investment in Max's company came from the 'centipede' scar on my stomach.

When AI technology was just emerging, Max had a brilliant idea for a project but no investors. While we were meeting potential investors, a deranged man burst in with a knife. I shielded him and ended up stabbed in the stomach.

That incident brought Max his first round of funding—and his breakthrough.

We built the company together, celebrating every milestone, big or small. When the company went public, Max threw me a grand proposal with the help of the entire company. Every billboard in the city lit up with our love story.

He went above and beyond, hiring top lawyers and witnesses to transfer me 51% of the company shares. He swore he would never betray me and backed that promise up with money as proof.

Who could have guessed that this man, who had sworn to love and protect me forever, would change his heart so easily?

I did not believe that money alone changed men. If they could be tempted, they were weak to begin with.

When did I first suspect Max? Perhaps it was when I overheard employees talking while bringing him medicine to the office. They said Max treated Coco differently, describing their interaction that eerily mirrored how Max treated me when we first started dating.

I did not see Max or Coco that day. When he came home that night, and I asked about it, he was defensive and dismissive.

"Suri, stay out of company business. Do I need to announce every time I change assistants? Besides, she's just a recent graduate, clumsy and clueless like you were. What's there to talk about?"

Yet, something still felt off. "Did she apply for the position herself?" I asked, knowing Max's standards were too high for just anyone to make the cut.

His response was strange, and he avoided meeting my gaze. "Of course not. A client recommended her, and she's capable enough."

As I helped him unbutton his shirt that night, I tried to reason with him. "Max, some women have ulterior motives. They might be your competitor's—"

Max suddenly shoved me away and angrily threw his shirt to the floor. "Suri, only dirty minds see dirt everywhere. She's just a kid, what would she know?"

That night, for the first time in our marriage, Max slept in another room. Sitting alone in our bedroom, I knew with crushing certainty that Max had fallen in love with someone else.