After five years of building a business with my wife, Jane Fletcher, our company finally goes public.

Right after I close a big business deal, I head home in high spirits, ready to take her to meet my family.

She transfers me 100 dollars with a hint of annoyance and says, "Buy yourself a decent shirt to wear for the financial conference on the day after tomorrow."

The next day, Ansel Meyer—the underprivileged student she sponsors—shows up in a custom suit worth two million dollars.

He says apologetically, "Mr. Crane, please do not be mad at Ms. Fletcher. She just wants to give me the best. Maybe she thinks you are used to these things, so she only gave you 100 dollars."

I call Jane, but she replies impatiently, "It is just a suit. Why are you being so petty?"

All of a sudden, I no longer want to continue this marriage.

So, I make two calls decisively.

"Hey, Mitch. I am not going to go through with that 50-million deal."

"Mom, hold on to the 300-million wedding gift you prepared for your daughter-in-law."

Right after stepping off the plane, I flagged a cab and headed straight for the office.

This business trip was a massive success. I'd closed a 50-million-dollar partnership with a close friend, and with the deal in the bag, the company was bound to take off. I wanted to surprise Jenna Fletcher with the good news.

There was a transfer notification from her on my phone. She'd sent me 100 dollars and told me to buy some new clothes for the financial conference the day after tomorrow.

I sent her a couple of cute, affectionate emojis.

Back when we first started our business, we could make a ten-dollar outfit from street stalls last six months.

When I arrived at the office lobby, a crowd of employees was gathered around Ansel Meyer, staring at him in awe.

Ansel was an underprivileged student whom my wife, Jenna, had sponsored. He graduated from college and now worked as her personal driver.

"Wow, that suit's gotta be custom-tailored, Ansel. It looks insanely expensive!"

"You're one lucky guy, Ansel. Ms. Fletcher treats you so well. Are you two about to make things official?"

"No doubt about it. Ansel's young, good-looking, and knows how to please the boss. That outfit alone must cost tens of thousands of dollars, and no one is willing to spend so much unless it's for someone special."

Ansel laughed along and smoothed his sharp-looking suit. "Quit the teasing, everyone, but Ms. Fletcher did tell me to buy something decent because she wants me to join her at the financial conference the day after tomorrow.

"It's the first time I've ever worn anything this nice. The whole outfit cost two million dollars, and I'll definitely treat Ms. Fletcher right after this."

My blood ran cold when I heard that.

Jenna and I never announced our marriage to the public, so all the employees assumed she was single. But as her driver, Ansel knew perfectly well that we were married.

I'd never imagined that while I was out there working myself to the bone, this gigolo had somehow become the darling of Jenna's eye. How was it fair that he got to wear an expensive, two-million-dollar suit while I had to make do with 100 dollars for some ordinary shirt?

The crowd gasped in shock.

"Two million dollars? Oh my god, Ms. Fletcher would spend any amount to spoil you!"

"I used to think Mr. Crane had a shot with her, but it looks like that's over now."

"Just a few days ago, she mentioned that Mr. Crane was incapable, didn't she? I doubt she'd go for him, and my bet's on Ansel; he clearly has the best shot at taking the top spot."

I walked up and asked, "Ansel, you're just a driver, aren't you? Who said anything about you attending the conference?"

What could he possibly understand at a financial conference?

Ansel just gave me an innocent, wide-eyed smile. "Ms. Fletcher said she wants me to watch and learn alongside her, so one day, I'll be her right-hand man.

"Mr. Crane, you're going to be at the conference too, aren't you? I know Ms. Fletcher gave you 100 dollars for your outfit.

"Don't be mad at her. She just wanted to give me the very best and probably thought you're used to your usual style, so she just gave you 100 dollars."

His words sounded modest, but they grated sharply on my ears.

I dialed Jenna's number, hoping for an explanation.

"Mr. Crane and Ansel are joining the same conference, yet Ansel gets a two-million-dollar allowance for clothes while Mr. Crane gets 100 dollars. It's pretty clear who matters more around here," a colleague said.

"Honestly, I think Mr. Crane isn't that impressive anyway. He's hardly ever in the office, and his performance is just average. At least Ansel is young and good-looking."

I couldn't help but let out a cold laugh. I'd been out there grinding day and night, just to bring in investments for the company, yet the colleagues thought I was just an incompetent loafer.

Then, Ansel added, looking slightly embarrassed, "I'm so sorry, Mr. Crane. While you were away the last few days, Ms. Fletcher gave instructions that you should move your office to the tenth floor when you get back, and I'll be using your current office."

The tenth floor? The entire floor hadn't been cleared out yet, and the rooms were full of old desks, chairs, and cobwebs. How was I supposed to work there?

"Are you daydreaming, Ansel? You're a driver, so why on earth would you work in a director's office?"

Someone standing nearby chimed in, "You're out of the loop, Mr. Crane. Ms. Fletcher has been mentoring him lately. She says he's a fast learner and incredibly sharp."

"That's right. Weren't you informed when Ms. Fletcher decided to promote Ansel to a director?"

If Jenna decided that a driver could take my place, either she'd lost her mind, or I had.

"I'm not moving," I solemnly declared.

Ansel grinned sinisterly as he said, "Mr. Crane, Ms. Fletcher likes people who get things done fast. I had the items on your desk packed up and moved to the tenth-floor hallway yesterday, and you can take a look."

He pulled out his phone and showed me a photo. Sure enough, all my belongings were piled outside the door like trash.

Rage hit me like a blow as I grabbed his tie and demanded, "What gives you the right to touch my stuff?"

Just seconds ago, he was gloating, but his eyes suddenly shifted. He slipped out of my grip and fell backward in one smooth motion.

After he hit the lobby floor with a loud thud, his voice turned pitiful and sounded full of hurt. "I'm sorry, Mr Crane. If you don't want me using your office, I'll work on the tenth floor instead.

"I was too hasty in moving your belongings, so it's only fair that you beat me up."

While I was baffled, Jenna came clicking toward us in her heels and looked utterly devastated as she helped him up.

"Ms. Fletcher," I started. "Why is my office—"

I could barely finish when a hard slap landed across my face.

"Did you seriously slap me for him?" I asked in disbelief.

Her gaze was cold, and her voice was devoid of warmth as she said, "Elton Crane, you either disappear for days or come back just to assault my staff. Shouldn't I slap you for that?"

Ansel jumped in and pitifully pretended to defend me again. "I'm fine, Ms. Fletcher. Don't make things tough for Mr. Crane.

"I'm just a driver who doesn't deserve an office, after all. I'll clear out my belongings right away."

Jenna immediately clutched his arm, and her expression softened into concerned distress. "Don't say that. You're mine, and if I say that the office is yours, it is. Don't you dare move a single thing."

"Jenna!" I roared at her. "What has he ever done for this company that you let him take my place, just like that?"

"Are you seriously questioning my authority, Elton? When did you become so unreasonable? You're acting like a violent lunatic!"

"I didn't push him! He fell on his own!" I protested.

But the people around us, eager to suck up to Ansel, immediately backed him up.

"Mr. Crane was clearly the one who shoved Ansel, while Ansel was perfectly polite the whole time."

"Exactly. Mr. Crane is just a bully who uses his title to throw his weight around, while Ansel has a great attitude and real talent. You made the right choice, Ms. Fletcher."

I stumbled back, stunned, and could barely believe the blatant lies coming out of their mouths.

"There are security cameras in the lobby, Jenna. Do you have the guts to check the footage?"

"I trust Ansel. He would never lie," she said flatly. "You, on the other hand, should know when to stop, or it'll be a lot worse than just a slap."

Ansel tugged at her sleeve and intimately said, "Let me take you to your magazine interview, Ms. Fletcher."

Jenna didn't bother giving me another glance as she got into the car, while Ansel shot me a mocking smirk before starting the engine and speeding away.

On my way home, my emotions were all over the place.

Back then, I'd severed ties with my family and stubbornly chose to be with Jenna. We'd slept in basements, worked delivery jobs, and waited tables just to scrape together a tiny bit of savings.

In the fourth year of our startup, my family finally relented and accepted our relationship. We'd registered our marriage and were legally husband and wife by then.

I'd secretly leveraged my family's strings to help grow the company into what it was today, but to make her happy, I'd never told her the truth. So, she genuinely believed it was all the fruit of her hard work.

But ever since Ansel became our driver, our relationship started to slowly, silently rot away.

When I unlocked the door and stepped into the living room, the first thing I noticed was a pair of men's leather shoes. On the balcony, there were even two pairs of underwear that weren't mine.

My blood boiled in fury as I strode toward the bedroom, where the bed was a disheveled mess, and the floor was littered with countless used condoms.

I never imagined that while I was away, Jenna had taken the chance to bring Ansel into our bed. My hands were shaking from the rage, and the humiliation of being cheated on crashed over me like a tidal wave.

I frantically called Jenna to demand an explanation, but she never picked up. It wasn't until 8:00 pm that Ansel opened the front door with practiced ease and carried the drunken Jenna in.

My expression was gloomy as I blocked his way. "You may leave now. I'll take care of my wife."

I reached out to take her from his arms, but she shoved me away. "Go away! I only want Ansel to stay with me!"

Ansel shot me a triumphant grin, his eyes gleaming with unwavering determination. "I'll do it, Mr. Crane. I'm used to taking care of her.

"Jenna only has eyes for me right now. She doesn't like outsiders touching her."

I was the legal husband, and yet, I was the so-called outsider.

"Jenna, I want you to kick him out."

Furious, Jenna ripped her bag off her shoulder and slammed it right into my face. "If anyone's leaving, it's you, Elton. I'm the one carrying this entire family on my back, and what have you even done besides ducking your responsibilities and fooling around?

"Instead of wasting time being jealous of Ansel, why don't you secure that magazine interview? I wouldn't have had the chance to promote the company if Ansel hadn't fought for it!"

I was baffled.

Couture Chronicles was one of the most prestigious magazine publishers in the industry. I'd secretly called in favors with the owner just to secure a dedicated feature for the company, and how had that suddenly turned into Ansel's accomplishment?

"I worked hard and begged just to secure that Couture Chronicles interview. What does that have to do with Ansel?" I solemnly shot back.

She shot me a look of contempt and scorn. "It was Ansel who visited their office nearly a dozen times and begged before he finally landed the interview and photoshoot. He's far more useful than you'll ever be, while you're just a loser. Do you even get that?"

Ansel put on his best humble act. "I just wanted to ease your burden. It hurts me to see you frown and stress over it for days."

Watching them flirt like I didn't exist made my stomach churn, so I stepped aside and announced, "Jenna, I want a divorce."

There was no point in continuing this marriage anyway.

Jenna immediately agreed. "I'm fine with a divorce, but you're leaving with nothing, Elton."

I tensed slightly. "I spent years building Zest Summer Group with you, Jenna, and now you're telling me to walk away with nothing?"

So, that was it. She was going to toss me aside after I was no longer useful.

Her expression remained cold as she snorted and replied, "Incompetence is something you can't deny, and I've made the biggest compromise by letting you walk away with nothing. Just get the hell out if you don't like it."

With that, she wrapped her arms around Ansel's neck and eagerly pulled him toward the bedroom.

I turned and walked out without looking back. After booking a presidential suite at a hotel, I made two calls.

"Mitch, I'm pulling out of that 50-million-dollar order.

"Mom, hold on to that 300-million-dollar wedding gift you prepared for my wife."