I began to suspect that Golding Corp was selling Happy Capy merchandise instead.

"Mel, please pour me a glass of warm water," someone said. The voice came from the lounge area.

Mel? Yves sure didn't hold back when calling out to her.

With a calm expression, I poured a glass of hot water and walked into the lounge. The moment he saw me, he became a little flustered. "What… What are you doing here?"

"You're such a big shot that I even need an appointment to enter my own company." I sneered.

I calmly looked at him as he took the cup, drank a large gulp, and quickly spat the water out.

"Hot! Whot did youth do?" His tongue was so burned that his speech became slurred.

"Just disinfecting your mouth a little," I replied.

I looked at the lipstick mark on his shirt with disdain. It was the same shade as what Melissa was wearing.

I added, "If you keep licking cheaply made lipstick, you'll end up with lead poisoning."

Yves changed into a new shirt before coming up with a poor excuse. He said, "Don't misunderstand. Melissa fell, and I just happened to catch her."

"Really? She just happened to fall on your shirt collar? What a coincidence.

"It seems like it won't wash off. This shirt is custom and handmade in Kintaly. Melissa probably can't even afford it with several years' worth of her salary," I said. I raised my brows and looked at Yves.

"It's just a shirt. I can buy a new one. Why make things difficult for others? You weren't like this before," Yves retorted.

It seemed like he really had forgotten. In just half a year, he had forgotten that this was the birthday gift I gave to him. He even said he would cherish it.

Melissa, with her head lowered, brought in a cup of coffee. She was about to leave after setting it down when Yves called out to her, "Bring me the bidding document for the project in North City."

"It's… It's here," Melissa stuttered as she dug it out from the many folders on Yves' desk and handed it to him.

When he sensed the strangeness in her voice, Yves furrowed his brow and asked, "What's wrong?"

She looked up, and instantly, a teardrop fell into the coffee. Her eyes were slightly reddened, with tears welling up in them. There was also a clear handprint mark on her cheek.

"Who did this?" Yves asked, his gaze full of distress.

Melissa said nothing and simply turned to look at me. Another teardrop slipped down her face again. She really looked quite pitiful. Even though I didn't say anything, just her one expression conveyed a thousand words.

Was she an actress? It would be a shame if she didn't enter the acting industry.

"Cynthia, did you hit her?" Yves snapped.

Melissa held his wrist and gently shook it. "No… It wasn't Mrs. Golding. It was my mistake."

"No matter what the mistake was, hitting someone is wrong, let alone slapping them. Cynthia, what you did is too harmful to one's dignity!"

I began, "Where did you—"

However, Melissa interrupted me as soon as I spoke. She choked up, saying, "I-It's… It's because I didn't know… I-I shouldn't have told the receptionists to stop Mrs. Golding… I didn't know…"

Yves' distressed gaze lingered on Melissa's face before he pulled her over to stand before me.

At that moment, I was seated on the couch and savoring my tea. When I looked at the two of them, I took a small sip and remarked, "This tea is delicious."

Yves snatched the teacup from my hand and glared fiercely at me. "Apologize to Mel right now!"

"Apologize for what?" I asked, tilting my head.

"You hit someone, yet you're still this audacious!"

"I hit someone?"

"You hit Mel! Look at her swollen cheek!"

I stood up and leaned closer to Melissa. "I hit you?"

"N-No. Mr. Golding, Mrs. Golding didn't hit me. I fell…"

Then, I graciously slapped Melissa's face twice, the sound echoing through the room.

"Now, I've indeed hit you," I said.

Melissa acted like she had suffered a great injustice. Covering her face, she ran out of the office in tears.

Before Yves left, he berated me, "My tolerance for you is not a ticket for you to cause unreasonable trouble. If I catch you doing it again, we'll get a divorce!"

In our three years together, this was the first time he had threatened me with a divorce.

I smiled bitterly, losing even the last shred of hope I held.

…

After the argument, Yves didn't come home for an entire month.

To appease Melissa, he took her on a worldwide trip. He took her to Nartic to see the penguins, to Sartica to see the aurora, to San Melini to see the ocean, and to Tornky to ride in a hot air balloon. He even took her to Izland to enjoy some barbecue at the foot of a volcano.

I saw all of this from Melissa's posts on social media.

Meanwhile, Yves himself posted something, which was unusual behavior for him. His caption read, "To me, all others are mere blades of grass, but you're the only towering mountain."

I liked the post, and he deleted it instantly. It seemed like he had forgotten to block me. However, I had no time to worry about that shameless couple.

Yves had disregarded an important bidding project for that secretary of his, drawing the dissatisfaction of many senior board members.

If the bidding project succeeded, Golding Corp would secure its foothold in the legal and underworld business industries.

As the largest shareholder of Golding Corp, I had to step up and stabilize the situation.

For the past month, I had been busy running around and no longer looked forward to Yves coming home like I did before. I was living a much more fulfilled life.

On the day of the bid, when the others saw that Yves himself hadn't even attended and instead sent someone unfamiliar, their gazes were full of disdain.

"Mr. Golding isn't even bothering to show up for such a major project?"

"Haven't you heard? Mr. Golding prioritizes love over business."

"That's no ordinary woman. She's like Cleopatra."

"It's not as if there aren't plenty of women to choose from. At this rate, Golding Corp is doomed."

To say these people respected women was a lie. They'd treat them as playthings. But if you thought that they looked down on women, that wasn't true either, as they believed that women had the power to bring a nation down to its knees.

The government official reviewed all the submitted proposals without showing any signs of satisfaction.

I had my assistant hand over my proposal. The government official was close to feeling completely disappointed, but just when she had almost given up, the average solution I presented felt near perfect to her.

Her expression lit up with surprise as she stood up. While holding the proposal, she asked, "Ms. York, are you from Golding Corp?"

I respectfully rose to my feet and nodded. "I'm a shareholder," I corrected.

A short while later, she answered an incoming call. Then, she announced, "We've decided to go with Golding Corp's proposal."

It was as I expected—the Bureau of Land Management chief's wife wanted to build the country's largest and most humane hospital, specializing in providing medical care for women and children, regardless of their wealth.

Men always tended to focus on making things the largest and most high-tech, while women often considered the opposite. Humanity would always be more important than technology.

…

The bureau chief's wife, Queenie Reed, would be attending the celebration dinner that evening.

What I didn't expect was that Yves had also come to the party—and that he had brought Melissa along.

Due to having menstrual cramps, I ended up being half an hour late. After getting an injection to help relieve my cramps, I rushed to the banquet.

At the entrance of the private dining room, I overheard Yves say, "Melissa thought of this proposal during our travels. Foreign hospitals are much more compassionate than domestic ones. She built upon those ideas and added her personal insights. I never expected the bureau chief's wife to like it so much. It's an honor for her."

The others present began flattering her, saying, "I never imagined that such a proposal could come from a freshly graduated young lady. It seems that Golding Corp is full of talent."

"Ms. Lane is truly both talented and beautiful. A perfect blend of intelligence and grace."

"Could she be Mr. Golding's capable wife?"

"Mr. Golding, Ms. Lane wasn't the person at the bidding that day. If I recall correctly, her name was Cynthia York." Just then, a familiar voice spoke up. That person had arrived.