A cold sneer twisted my lips.

"Hailey Mann, doesn't that word burn your throat? Hypocrite."

"I... I've already been hurt enough, Henry."

"You—"

"Hailey, give me the phone."

The line crackled. The next second, Wyatt Farley's voice grated against my ear.

"Listen closely, Henry Harding. If Hailey hadn't begged me on her knees, do you think I'd let you off this easy?"

He didn't wait for a response. "My companies are worth tens of billions. Endless capital. An army of people at my disposal. And you? Nothing. A tiny, insignificant lawyer."

His voice dropped to a growl. "Don't choose the hard way. You won't survive it."

Beside me, Dylan was trembling, fists clenched white. He looked ready to punch the wall.

"The arrogance," he hissed. "He's out of control!"

I kept my expression icy. "Wyatt, I have a message for you too."

"Speak," he scoffed.

"Man acts, and Heaven watches." My voice cut through his bluster. "Retribution isn't absent. It's just running late."

"Hah!" He laughed wildly. "Standing on the precipice of ruin, yet you still dare to preach? We'll see who laughs last!"

Click.

I hung up, turned on my heel, and marched toward my office. If the evidence was destroyed, fine. I would dig deeper. Rebuild the case from the ground up.

I pushed open the door—and froze.

The entire board was waiting, faces grim and self-righteous.

"Henry Harding," the Chairman began, voice dripping with disdain. "Who gave you the authority to investigate Mr. Farley?"

"You're fired," another announced without meeting my eyes.

"Your things are packed." A third pointed to a cardboard box on my desk. "Get out. Immediately."

I scanned their faces one by one. No panic rose in my chest—only a grim, knowing smile.

Wyatt's reach is long indeed.

They expected me to beg? To crumble? They underestimated who they were dealing with. I had kept a low profile for years, hiding my family's influence to build a career on my own merit. My humility had only fueled their arrogance.

I stared into the Chairman's eyes until he shifted uncomfortably. Without a word, I picked up the box and walked out.

The moment I stepped outside, cool air hitting my face, I dialed a number I hadn't used in a long time.

"Alfred."

"Sir?" The butler's voice was crisp and immediate.

"Mobilize the elite investigation unit. I want them here. Now."

"At once, Young Master."

I hung up and drove straight home.

Hailey stood up from the sofa when I entered, her expression a mix of anxiety and defiance.

"Henry, stop being stubborn," she pleaded. "Holding onto your pride will only destroy you. Do you think I did this because I still have feelings for Wyatt? Is that why you're obsessed with sending him to prison?"

"We've been married ten years. I am your wife. Wyatt is just—"

"Oh?" I cut her off, voice frigid. "So you remember you have a husband?"

Ten years.

For a decade, I used my own resources and my family's connections to elevate Hailey Mann. Took her from a nobody and molded her into a top-tier attorney. Every case she won—I was the one burning midnight oil, reviewing evidence, finding loopholes, crafting strategies.

I protected her reputation as if it were my own life.

And the result?

Betrayal. She wanted to ruin me. Cast me into hell to save her ex-lover.

Ten years of devotion. All of it cast before swine.

My love? She doesn't deserve a scrap of it.

"Henry Harding!" Hailey's face flushed red. "What are you implying? Of course I know I'm your wife! I did this for you. I didn't want you to get hurt!"

"For me?" I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "You know exactly who you did it for. And it wasn't me."

"Who else?" she snapped. "Wyatt? He's worth billions. Thousands of employees. Does he need my help?"

She took a breath, eyes filled with twisted pity. "It's you I'm worried about. You're just a small-time lawyer. Wyatt could crush you with a flick of his finger."

"So," I stepped closer, gaze boring into hers, "am I supposed to thank you for betraying me?"

Hailey shook her head as if she were the victim. "You're being completely irrational. You really disappoint me."

I scoffed.

"The feeling is mutual. You've disappointed me just as much."

Seeing my cold demeanor, Hailey took a deep breath, her tone softening instantly.

"Husband, I know you're angry. You blame me for destroying the evidence you worked so hard to collect, but I truly did it for your own good."

She stepped closer, voice pleading. "Think about it. If you actually sent Wyatt to prison, do you think his partners and stakeholders would let you off the hook? I know you've always kept business and personal matters separate, but for once, you have to consider our family."

Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke.

"I had to beg Wyatt. That was the only reason he agreed not to come after you. Do you know how much I suffered? How many cold shoulders I endured? Instead of comforting me, you blame me..."

The tears fell faster now—a practiced escalation.

She knew my weakness. She knew I could never stand seeing her cry. In the past, her tears were my command; no matter the request, I would have agreed to anything to make them stop.

But the past was dead. I watched her performance with a stony expression.

Hailey sniffled, wiped her face, and produced an invitation from her bag.

"Tomorrow night is the gala for Wyatt's company IPO. Come with me. Drink a glass of wine, apologize to him, and we can put this whole mess behind us." She looked up at me with wide, wet eyes. "I'm begging you, okay?"

You want me to apologize?

The audacity nearly made me laugh. I forced the rage down and nodded. "Fine. We'll do it your way."

I won't be apologizing. But I will be delivering a gift. To him, and to you.

Hailey smiled through her tears, relief washing over her face.

"I knew you'd see reason, husband."

She turned and practically skipped out of the room. "I'll tell Wyatt right now to pull the negative press online."

I watched her leave, my gaze turning icy. Once she was gone, I dialed Alfred.

"Is the team in place? I want the evidence chain reconstructed before tomorrow night." I paused, voice dropping. "And Alfred... prepare the divorce papers."

The following evening, Hailey emerged in a sleek black gown that left her back and shoulders bare. Her hair was pinned up elegantly, lips painted a fiery red. She looked stunning.

"Husband, I'm ready."

She turned, pausing when she saw me still on the sofa. A frown marred her features.

"Why haven't you changed yet?"

I was still in casual loungewear.

Her tone turned critical. "Tonight is the celebration gala for Wyatt's IPO. Every major player in the city will be there. You can't go like that."

"Why? Afraid I'll embarrass you?"

Hailey quickly backpedaled. "No! My husband is handsome in anything. It's just... it looks disrespectful. Wyatt won't appreciate it."

She gestured to the bedroom. "Please, change into something formal."

I stood, smoothing my shirt. "No need."

Tonight is Wyatt's last taste of glory. He won't need "face" where he's going.

When we arrived at the venue, Wyatt was stationed at the entrance, greeting guests like a king holding court. His eyes lit up when he saw Hailey, and he walked over quickly.

"Hailey, you look breathtaking."

Ignoring me entirely, he took her hand and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles, shooting me a provocative glance.

Pathetic.

I couldn't be bothered to react.

Hailey blushed but didn't withdraw her hand.

"Wyatt, I brought Henry. He's here to congratulate you, and to apologize."

"Apologize?"

Wyatt's smile was full of hidden meaning as he looked me up and down.

"Forgive my bluntness, but Henry's attire doesn't exactly scream 'sincerity.'"

Hailey's expression stiffened. Before she could defend me, Wyatt cut in with a magnanimous wave. "But since you asked, of course I have to give face."

Wyatt snapped his fingers.

A waiter appeared instantly, bearing a silver tray with two glasses of red wine.

"Henry." Wyatt's voice oozed false magnanimity. "Drink this, and we wipe the slate clean. Separate paths from here on out. Water under the bridge."

"Exactly," Hailey chimed in, her smile strained. "A toast to bury old grudges."

She kept shooting me meaningful looks, silently begging me to play along.

I ignored her.

Wyatt lifted one glass in a mock toast. Then, with theatrical clumsiness, he stumbled forward. Wine splashed across the front of my suit.

"Ah! Sorry." His tone held zero apology. "Hand slipped."

I watched the smirk tugging at his lips. Calmly, I took the remaining glass from the tray and upended it over his head.

Dark crimson dripped down his nose and chin, staining his collar.

"Wyatt!"

Hailey shoved me aside. She grabbed a fistful of napkins, frantically dabbing at his face before whirling on me.

"Henry, are you insane?"

My voice stayed flat. "Does it pain you to see him humiliated?"

"You—" Her finger jabbed toward my face. "What happened to you? Where's the man I married?"

She didn't wait for an answer. "Just because Wyatt and I have history, you attack him at every turn? You're a grown man, not a jealous teenager. Can't you be rational for once?"

I studied the indignation burning in her eyes. The last ember of affection I held for her turned to ash.

I reached into my jacket and pulled out the document I'd prepared. Tossed it at her feet.

"You're right. I've changed." My voice went cold. "The man you knew is dead."

The papers landed softly on the carpet.

"Since I displease you so much, sign it. Then you can spend the rest of your life doting on Wyatt without guilt."