“Don’t mess with me, man. My wife is off-limits," Sean would always say to him. "I’m serious, Michelle is my world.”

But, of course, that was just a one-time drunk joke.

After that, we never brought it up again. Over time, Sean stopped reacting to Grayson’s jabs—he just brushed them off like it didn’t even matter. But I didn’t expect Grayson to take it even further.

One afternoon, I was out shopping, doing my thing, when my phone buzzed. I looked at the screen, and sure enough, it was a message from Grayson.

“Michelle, wanna watch a little office movie?” it said.

The video popped up before I could figure out what he was talking about.

I chuckled at first, thinking it was just another one of his dumb jokes. But when I saw the cover of the video, my smile froze.

It was Sean.

My husband, Sean, looked like a beast, kissing some woman’s neck in an office, holding her close like they were the only ones in the world.

I felt the blood drain from my face. That’s when it hit me—Sean had been cheating on me for who knows how long.

During all those nights, he told me he was working late.

He wasn’t working. He was with his secretary, Veronica. All those late nights? Lies. All of them.

I stood there, shaking, staring at the screen, feeling like the floor was about to drop from under me. I barely had time to process it when I realized I wasn’t alone.

Now, I was sitting in a hotel room. Grayson was standing there, looking way too relaxed for the situation. But when he saw me sitting on the couch, his usual cocky grin faded. His face went red, and he shifted uncomfortably.

“Michelle, you didn’t come here to... mess around with me, did you?” he asked, trying to cover up the tension with a joke. “I mean, you’re so proper, right? You wouldn’t use me like that to get back at your husband. Let me guess... what’s the real reason you came here?”

Before he could finish, I stood up, walked right up to him, and shoved him back against the wall.

His face reddened as he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Michelle, you—”

“Help me get a divorce,” I cut him off, my voice cold and flat.

Grayson blinked, clearly thrown off. “What?”

“I want Sean to lose everything,” I said, my words coming out sharper. “I want his money, his assets, everything. I want it all. Help me with this, and I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Grayson stared at me, and for the first time, I saw something other than his usual teasing grin. Something serious.

“Michelle, you’re... serious?” His voice dropped low, and I could see the excitement flicker in his eyes.

I’d always known Grayson had feelings for me. There was that one time during a game of Truth or Dare when he was drunk out of his mind, and the guys pushed him to say who he liked. He barely mumbled anything, but I could tell he had a thing for me. I always knew.

And now, here he was, practically glowing. He reached out, and without thinking, he linked his pinky finger with mine.

“It’s a deal,” he said, that goofy grin back on his face.

I couldn’t help but glance down at his sharp collarbones. Rationality was screaming at me to stop, but something else was pulling me in.

Before I could even pull my hand back, Grayson grabbed it and placed it on his collarbone.

“You wanna touch it?” he teased. “Don’t be shy. I don’t mind.”

I felt my face go red. This wasn’t why I came here; I hated how my body reacted.

“I didn’t come here to have an affair with you,” I said, trying to push the heat out of my system. “I’m not doing anything until after I divorce my husband.”

Grayson smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Of course, Michelle,” he said, still smiling. “I’ll wait for you.”

...

After leaving the hotel, I wandered the city, not knowing where I was going. I ended up at a bar, trying to drown my thoughts with a few drinks. By the time I made it back home, it was well past midnight.

I expected the house to be empty and quiet. But when I opened the door, I found Sean standing there, looking like he’d been pacing.

The second he saw me, he rushed and pulled me into his arms.

“Michelle, where the hell have you been?” His voice cracked, sounding desperate. “I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you! Why are you so late? I was freakin’ out!”

I stood there, stiff as a board, in his arms. His eyes were red, his face frantic, like he thought something bad had happened to me.

He held me like I was some fragile thing like I was precious.

I almost laughed in his face. The man who’d been sleepin’ with God knows how many women were now acting like I was his one true love.

It was almost funny... if it wasn’t so damn sad.

For all these years, Sean had played the part of the perfect husband. He cooked dinner and did the little things to keep up appearances for his family, friends, and coworkers—hell, for everyone but me.

To the world, he was the perfect man. The CEO. The doting husband. But behind closed doors? He was a stranger.

Sean knows exactly what bags I like. He fills my wardrobe with the latest collections, paying attention to every little thing. When I mentioned I had a heart condition, he started worrying even more. But even with all that, he still let another woman bear his child.

"Michelle, Mom called. She wants us to go to the house for dinner tomorrow," Sean said, his voice soft as he walked into the kitchen holding a bowl of soup.

I’d been out drinking the night before, and he knew it. So here he was, making me hangover soup with that concerned look he always gave me, the one he saved just for me.

When he handed me the bowl, his eyes were full of care. "We haven’t been to the house in a while. Tomorrow, I’ll take you with me. It’ll be a good chance to clear your head."

I just stared at him, feeling the weight of everything crashing down on me.

"I’m not feeling well tomorrow," I said, my voice flat, numb.

Sean pressed a little more, asking if I was sure, but when he saw I wasn’t budging, he just nodded and went on with his day. Like nothing was wrong.

...

The next afternoon, something clicked in my head. I remembered I’d left a few things at the old house. And if I’m going through with this divorce, I might as well take everything with me. So, I called a taxi and headed over, thinking I’d be in and out without a fuss.

But when I walked in, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw—everyone was there, all smiles, welcoming Veronica.

It felt like a punch to the gut. Sean, who’d never even mentioned her to the family, had brought her to the old house and they were all celebrating her pregnancy like it was the best news in the world.

Sean’s mom was holding Veronica’s hand like she was some sort of queen.

"This is great! Our family will finally have a grandchild!" she beamed.

"I can finally get what I wanted—a grandson to hold soon!" she added, her eyes sparkling with joy.

My sister-in-law, Tabitha, couldn't hide her disgust. "She’s just my brother’s mistress. What’s the point of her having the child? It’s still an illegitimate one."

Before anyone could respond, Sean’s mom whipped around, furious. "Don’t you dare say such things!"

"If it weren’t for your sister-in-law not being able to get pregnant, would I have to pray to the gods every damn day for a grandson?" she shouted.

"What’s wrong with an illegitimate child?" she continued, voice rising with every word. "He’s still part of our family!"

And then, as if on cue, Sean's mom turned on me.

"It’s all because of Michelle," she spat. "If she could’ve had a child, you wouldn’t have been stuck with her all these years. Now look at her—heart disease, no children in sight!"

The words sliced through me, and I could barely stop myself from flinching.

"And now she can’t even have children, so what’s the point? She’s infertile, Sean!"

Sean’s mother was relentless. "Hurry up and divorce her. Veronica’s pregnant with our family’s child. Marry her so your son has a real name!"

“Mom, Don’t say things like that!” Sean snapped, his voice low and furious. "Stop! Even if Veronica has a kid, I’ll adopt it and raise it as my own."

Sean's mom just sneered at him. "You really have no backbone, huh? Letting one woman walk all over you."

At that point, Tabitha couldn’t stay quiet any longer. She shot up, her face flushed with anger. "Mom, how can you be so ungrateful? If it weren’t for Michelle, I’d be dead right now. She saved my life!"

"You promised you’d treat her like your own daughter!" Tabitha’s voice was shaking. "It’s just that she can’t have kids. Why are you being so cruel..."

But before she could say more, Sean's mom slapped her across the face.

Tabitha ran out, tears in her eyes, the sound of the door slamming echoing through the house.

For a moment, the room was silent. And I felt something strange—like there were still a few people here who remembered what I’d done for them. But it didn’t matter, because Sean let all this happen. He let other women and other children into our lives without a second thought.

This house… it wasn’t a home anymore.

A few days later, I got a message from Grayson.

[I got it. How do you want to thank me?]

He sent a picture of the divorce agreement. The last page had Sean’s signature on it. I stared at the photo for a moment, my heart pounding.

"How did you do it?" I whispered, barely believing it.

I’d been racking my brain, trying to figure out how I could ever get Sean to sign the papers. I knew he’d never agree to it—not without a fight.

But here it was, in Grayson’s hands—Sean’s signature, clear as day. It was real.

"Call me 'babe,' and I’ll tell you," Grayson teased, a mischievous grin on his face.

I raised an eyebrow, pretending to walk away, but he couldn’t let me go that easily. He chuckled and grabbed my arm before I could make it too far.

"Alright, alright," he said, laughing. "No need to leave. I’ll tell you."

I paused and gave him a questioning look, waiting. Finally, he dropped the bomb.

"It’s Veronica."

I froze for a moment, my mind scrambling to process what he was saying.

Grayson had orchestrated all of this?

He’d had his secretary slip the divorce agreement into the pile of documents Sean was about to sign, hoping to catch him off guard. Sean, distracted by his business, hadn’t even noticed and just signed everything without a second thought.

"That secretary’s been angling for a promotion for a while now," Grayson continued, leaning back in his chair, looking satisfied. "She couldn’t wait for Sean to sign those papers. She quietly tucked the divorce papers among the other contracts. Sean, too busy with his own matters, didn’t notice and signed them immediately."

He explained further, but I wasn’t really listening. My mind was stuck on the picture of Sean, caught up in the same mess brewing for so long.

As Grayson spoke, I couldn’t shake Sean’s voice in my head. Instead of feeling victorious, I felt this strange, aching emptiness.

I remember the time years ago when I almost got into a car accident. Sean had jumped in front of me, taking the hit so I wouldn’t. Even with his leg broken in multiple places, he kept his body between me and danger.

He had said, "Michelle, your parents are gone now. I’ll be the only one you can rely on. I’ll protect you with my life."

I had been so moved, so sure he was the one. But here we were, on the verge of divorce, everything falling apart.

How had we ended up like this?

Grayson didn’t hold back. He forwarded me every single video Sean had stored on his phone—footage of him and Veronica in moments far more intimate than I ever imagined.

There were videos from KTV nights, his living room, and his car. Each one was more passionate than the last, confirming just how far gone Sean really was.

"With this stuff," Grayson said, his voice cold but purposeful, "even if you take him to court for the divorce, you can get everything. He won’t get a penny."

I watched each video silently. Its weight crushed me with every passing second. Tears welled up, unstoppable. Grayson noticed, reaching out and gently wiping a tear away. His gaze was intense, almost unsettling, making my chest tighten.

"Michelle, he’s not worth crying over," he said softly.

I tried to smile, but it felt weak. The pain was still too raw.

Grayson cupped my face before I could say anything, his thumb brushing away the last of my tears.

"Grayson," I whispered, my voice shaky. "You’re also Sean’s good friend, right? For a woman... you’re willing to throw away all those years of brotherhood? Is it really worth it?"

Grayson didn’t flinch. Instead, he looked at me with an expression that made my heart skip a beat.

"Michelle, I admit it," he said, his voice low, almost guilty. "I’m a selfish bastard. I’m downright despicable. But all these years—everything, the friendship with Sean, the partnerships—was just to get you away from him."

I froze. His words hit harder than I expected, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe or think.

Grayson stepped forward before I could process what he’d just said, pinning me against the wall. His breath was ragged, and his face was inches from mine.

"Michelle," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Now that you’ve got the divorce agreement... can we finally…?"

I didn’t answer immediately. Instead, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to meet my lips in a kiss that was equal parts desperate and affirming.

"Grayson," I whispered against his lips, "now I’m your girlfriend."

The words felt heavy, but reality came crashing back before I could even process what had just happened.

The divorce agreement was real. Sean would have to leave the villa and walk away with nothing—everything he’d built, the wealth, the gifts, the life we’d shared... gone.

I packed my things quietly as if nothing had changed. But when I went to grab the last of my things, I ran into Sean.

He probably had just returned from a maternity photoshoot with Veronica—his latest “family” outing.

"Michelle," he said, his voice full of anxiety, "I’ve called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you pick up?"

He hugged me tight without warning, holding me like his life depended on it.

"Don’t cut me off like this," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "I’ll go crazy! Michelle, please don’t do this."

I stood there, silent, my mind replaying everything—the good, the bad, the lies, the betrayals. If there were an Oscar for Best Actor, Sean would have won it.

The next day, he left early again, claiming to have a meeting. But I’d already checked with his assistant—Sean had taken a few days off and hadn’t gone to the office at all.

I had originally planned to pack all his things and be done with it. But then, a much more satisfying idea came to me—a way to hurt him even more.

I took all the designer bags Sean had bought me over the years and sent them out for authentication, only to be told...