I stayed silent, and Ethan gave a bitter smile, as if resigning himself.

“If you love being a workaholic so much, then go live with your work.”

He slammed the door shut behind him.

I let out a dry laugh. Yes—why had I become a workaholic in the first place?

Because the playing field between men and women was never balanced.

Ethan only needed to show up for a morning meeting to secure his role as CEO.

Dividends fell into his lap every month, enough to drown in.

But me? I had to stay up all night writing proposals, compiling reports, personally attending endless dinners and networking events—giving everything I had just to hold the same weight in the company as he did.

And whose fault was that?

The man I’d loved for ten years, the husband I had chosen myself—was it that I didn’t want to spend time with him?

Why must a woman’s role at home always come at the cost of her career? I wasn’t willing to accept that.

If I had to choose, I would rather give up love than sacrifice my work.

I wiped away my tears, washed up quickly, and went right back to my laptop.

Men might abandon me, but work and money never would.

Ethan didn’t come home for an entire week, not even a single text.

Even the fragile peace we used to maintain—he couldn’t be bothered anymore.

Yet he still didn’t bring up divorce.

Even at the company’s weekly executive meetings, when our eyes met, Ethan avoided me, sometimes even deliberately stepping aside.

Everyone noticed the change.

My secretary whispered, “Ms. Carter, did you and Mr. Miller have another fight?”

I pressed my fingers to my temple.

“What makes you say that?”

She hesitated, then spoke.

“Two hours ago, Mr. Miller personally brought in an intern. Starting salary—fifty thousand.”

My eyes snapped open.

“What? An intern? Who? What’s her background?”

“She’s called Chloe Adams.”

My assistant glanced at me, looking guilty.

“Mr. Miller said Chloe reports only to him. She doesn’t answer to anyone else.”

I gave a wry smile. So it had come to this.

When I went to the break room for coffee, Chloe appeared with a smirk.

“Sophia, don’t think that just because I didn’t manage to make Ethan divorce you last time, you’ve won.”

“He’s already placed me in the company. He told me I’ll soon be the lady of this empire. You’d better pack your bags and prepare to get out.”

She sent me an audio file.

Ethan’s chuckle played through the speaker.

“Sophia has no femininity at all. Not cute in the slightest.

But you—you’re a little temptress. You’ve bewitched me completely.”

Their mingled breaths followed.

Chloe’s grin widened smugly.

“Face the truth, Sophia. You’re not young anymore, and your work can easily be replaced by me. If you’re smart, you’ll resign now before things get ugly. Otherwise, you’ll end up with nothing.”

She deliberately bumped my shoulder as she walked off.

My assistant looked at me anxiously.

“Ms. Carter, is what she said true?”

I smiled faintly. “Of course not.”

“All of this—I built with my own hands. Not even Ethan can take it away from me so easily.”

A few days later, Ethan attended a Tiffany & Co. gala.

Scrolling through the news feed, my hand froze on the video.

Just as I suspected—his date was Chloe.

The two of them walked side by side into the spotlight.

Even the reporters praised them as the perfect couple, “a match made in heaven.”

All those years we were married, Ethan never once agreed to endorse a jewelry brand.

Because I had no interest in jewelry, he invested all his time and energy into my business clients instead.

Whenever he saw me running around like a spinning top, exhausted from endless work,

he’d pull me into his arms from behind and whisper,

“Sophia, you don’t have to work this hard. With me here, even if you stayed home and did nothing, you’d still live comfortably.”

I would smile, shake my head, and push him away.

“Ethan, you don’t understand.”

Why should power and wealth only belong to men?

They savor the thrill of holding money and authority,

yet tell women from their high horses that chasing it isn’t necessary.

That day, I cupped Ethan’s chin and said with a teasing smile,

“How about this—why don’t you quit your job and be a full-time househusband? I’ll support you.”

His smile froze instantly.

“A man living off a woman? I’d be laughed out of the industry.”

He never brought it up again.

Maybe we were mismatched from the start.

Our values were worlds apart, and choosing marriage had been a mistake from the very beginning.

And now, just because Chloe mentioned she liked a certain jewelry brand,

Ethan swallowed his pride and broke his long-held principles to appear in public with her.

This time, he must really be in love.

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the mess in my mind.

My secretary had already sent over today’s schedule: I was to attend a dinner party,

where I would have the chance to meet Mrs. Johnson.

Winning her favor was the only way to secure Mr. Johnson’s cooperation.

But the moment I approached her, Mrs. Johnson doused me in wine, her face full of contempt.

“A woman as unscrupulous as you will never earn the Johnsons’ partnership.”

I chased after her.

“Mrs. Johnson, what do you mean by that?”

The wealthy lady, draped in crimson jewels, gave me a sharp laugh.

She flung a photo in my face.

“This girl, Chloe Adams, works under you, doesn’t she?”

“I thought you looked capable, respectable even. But to send a young intern to seduce my husband? Pathetic!”

“You’ll never get Mr. Johnson’s contract. I made him kneel all night on the hardwood floor for this.

As for the Miller Group, consider yourselves permanently blacklisted.”

By the time Mrs. Johnson swept away, I finally pieced it together.

Chloe had already approached him in private.

But Mrs. Johnson misunderstood, thinking it was my doing.

My dress clung cold and heavy against my skin, soaked with wine.

As I struggled to rise, my gown caught under my heel and I nearly toppled.

A man stepped forward, steadying me with a firm hand.

“Ms. Carter, are you alright?”

It was Daniel Hart, the client I had fought so hard to bring on board,

a man who truly appreciated my capabilities.

“I’m fine. Thank you, Mr. Hart.”

He smiled politely.

“Your clothes are wet. My secretary has a spare set on hand—why don’t you change into something dry?”

I accepted gratefully.

Daniel stayed to chat for a while, even invited me to dinner, and offered to introduce me to more clients.

“I’ll be sure to visit and thank you properly in a few days,” I said.

But when I caught the look in his eyes, I chose to draw the line, keeping a professional distance.

With the Johnsons no longer an option,

I had no choice but to throw all my energy back into the Silver Creek Project,

which I’d been managing for over two months.

When I went to the site for an inspection,

I ran into Chloe—

and the host was bowing and scraping, eagerly showing her around.