The Accusation

Julian strode into the conference room, dressed in a tailored suit and polished leather shoes that struck sharply against the floor.

The room fell silent in an instant. The secretary hurried to pull out a chair for him, but Julian didn't sit. Instead, he walked straight up to me, his tone cutting and cold. "Skye, stop fearmongering. Acting self-important only makes me despise you more."

I froze for a moment. I had thought his earlier "enough" was aimed at his assistant—but now I realized it had been meant for me.

Before I could even open my mouth, Julian went on, his voice laced with irritation. "The only thing I regret is letting you join the company in the first place. I'll never understand why Grandpa insisted on bringing in someone as useless as you.

"Who do you think you are? You think this company can't survive without you?"

We'd been married for five years. Even if our marriage was just for show, he could've at least maintained some semblance of harmony in public. His harsh, humiliating words stunned me. The shock faded quickly, replaced by a cold, sinking anger.

Five years ago, his grandfather, Edward Fraser, had reached out to my family, hoping I could help when Julian's company was on the brink of collapse.

"The company's in crisis, Skye. Thank you for lending a hand," he had said back then.

Julian had been nothing but courteous at the time—fresh from studying overseas, still youthful and polite. Later, Edward arranged for us to marry, thinking it would strengthen both families' ties.

I had fallen for Julian at first sight. Otherwise, with my personality, I never would have agreed to a marriage of convenience, no matter how much anyone offered.

I had thought Julian might not love me, but that he at least liked me enough to try.

We'd been "trying" for five years. And over time, he forgot everything I'd done quietly for him, for the company, for this family.

I looked at his cold face and said evenly, "If you want to shut down the department, fine. But you'll need to ask Old Mr. Fraser first. If he agrees, I'll accept it. I joined Fraser Networks because of his friendship with my grandfather—not because of anyone in this room."

For a split second, something flickered in Julian's expression—hesitation, guilt maybe—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

He straightened his back and snapped, "What, you're going to use Grandpa to threaten me now? Is that all you can do—throw your family's name around? I honestly don't know what he ever saw in you. You came in here and turned into nothing but a parasite."

I stared at Julian, searching his face for even a trace of the man I'd once known. There was nothing left.

Around us, the others began to stir, emboldened by his outburst.

"Why are you still standing here? Mr. Fraser made himself clear! You're an adult, Solen. Stop clinging like a child."

"Do you have to make such a scene? Why not part ways peacefully?"

"You're not about to throw a full-blown meltdown, are you, Solen?"

At first, I was confused by their sudden hostility. However, as I noticed who was speaking, everything fell into place. These were the same people rumored to have taken kickbacks—lining their pockets with dirty money.

The one who led the earlier mockery had once approached me too, testing the waters to see if I'd falsify data for him. I'd refused him flat-out. I hadn't thought much of it then, but now, the pieces all fit together.

Ever since that day, I'd been treated like an outcast, targeted again and again.

So this was their doing all along. And Julian—fool that he was—actually believed them. I had no idea what he'd learned during those years abroad, but apparently, common sense wasn't one of them.

I turned to the man who had just called me clingy—Craig, if I remembered correctly. "Craig, all this because I refused to cook your numbers and hide your tracks? Don't you think that's going too far? And you, Louis, Trent—you've been eager to push me out since the start of this meeting. Did my Cybersecurity Department threaten your little side business somehow?"

The Breaking Point

Instantly, their faces stiffened with unease, though Julian acted as if he hadn't heard a thing.

Craig was the first to recover, his voice rising defensively. "What nonsense are you spouting? When have I ever spoken to you about anything? Do you have proof for these ridiculous accusations?"

Julian, still oblivious to what I was implying, only frowned deeper, impatience flashing across his face. "So now, before you leave, you're trying to slander the people who've actually contributed to the company? Pathetic."

I let out a cold laugh. "Contributors? Tell me, which of these fine gentlemen here counts as one?"

Their expressions darkened further, and I continued, voice sharp and steady. "Evan's wearing a five-million-dollar watch he could never afford on his salary. Trent just bought himself an ocean-view apartment by the riverside. And Louis—didn't you just send your kid overseas to study?"

Trent slammed the table, his face red with fury. "Y-You're slandering me! I've been with this company since day one. You think your little Cybersecurity Department gives you the right to lecture me?"

Louis glared coldly. "Watch your words. I've given my best years to this company. Everything I have, I earned. My conscience is clear."

I couldn't help laughing outright. Watching them bluff and bluster was almost entertaining. If only Julian knew—Fraser Networks would've been torn apart long ago if not for me. The "profits" these men pocketed came from system loopholes left by a former programmer, ones I had already patched months ago.

Without me, the company would've been easy prey for rivals.

Julian, the so-called CEO, had no idea how much danger he'd narrowly avoided. He'd spent his days signing papers others placed in front of him, thinking that made him in control.

He didn't realize that for the past six months alone, the company had faced multiple cyberattacks from competitors—each one I quietly blocked before it reached the core systems. I'd submitted every report, but he'd never once bothered to look.

He'd once told me he only needed me to play the part of a pretty ornament in the office. But because I'd given Edward my word, I'd poured my full expertise into safeguarding his company.

Now that Edward was ill and no longer overseeing operations, Julian no longer even bothered pretending to value me. He thought he could rule Fraser Networks single-handedly.

My hands clenched into fists, knuckles cracking in the silence. Finally, I looked him squarely in the eye. "Julian Fraser, I'll ask you once. Are you absolutely certain you want me gone?"

For a brief moment, Julian just stared at me, startled by the steel in my voice. Then, he gathered himself and snapped, "Yes."

That alone ended everything. I no longer had any desire to warn him or defend myself. He would reap what he sowed soon enough.

The other executives were still shouting for me to leave when Julian spoke again, his tone laced with disgust. "Skye Solen, do yourself a favor and leave quietly. The company doesn't need someone who takes a salary and does nothing.

"And don't even think about going to my grandfather. If you tell him about this, I swear I'll despise you for the rest of my life."

The End of the Marriage

I forced down the fire burning in my chest and ground out through clenched teeth, "Don't worry, Julian. I'm not that pathetic yet. I just hope you don't end up regretting this decision someday."

But even as I said that, Julian still looked at me with suspicion, as though I were capable of pulling some cheap trick. I removed my employee badge and slapped it down on the conference table in front of everyone, the sound sharp and final.

I turned to leave—only for Julian to call out behind me.

For a fleeting second, I thought he had come to his senses. But instead, he said flatly, "Since everything's out in the open now, I won't bother pretending anymore. Let's get a divorce, Skye. I've never loved you—not once in all these years."

A short, bitter laugh escaped me. "Relax, I'm not delusional enough to think you ever did."

His declaration didn't even surprise me. Did he really think that after everything he'd done, I still cared? Even if he hadn't brought up divorce, I would have filed the papers myself the next day.

We'd been married for five years, but it had always been in name only. We shared a roof but not a bed, keeping up appearances solely for Edward's sake. Outside of that, our lives barely intersected.

Before Julian could say more, the onlookers around us began chiming in with nauseating flattery.

"Mr. Fraser really made the right call! Can't imagine what he ever saw in her."

"Exactly. She's useless—never deserved him in the first place."

"Good thing it's only been a few years. Better to cut your losses early."

I could feel the chill radiating off him, his indifference like a slap. I turned back to face him. "Have you thought about how you're going to explain this to Old Mr. Fraser?"

That question made him falter for a heartbeat. His brow furrowed as he snapped, "That's none of your concern! Just get out. I'll handle Grandpa myself."

Then, as if something amused him, his lips curved faintly. After five years of marriage, I didn't need words to know exactly what that look meant. He must have already found someone else and was planning to tell Edward after the fact, counting on his grandfather's affection to shield him.

The thought made me scoff. "What's so funny, Julian? Thinking about your replacement already?"

Julian's half-smile vanished instantly. He glared at me for a long moment before spitting out, "That's none of your business. Even if I do, she'll be a thousand times better than you. You're about to leave this company—you have no right to comment on its future."

His words drew another round of sycophantic agreement from the crowd.

"Mr. Fraser's taste is impeccable. Anyone would be better than her."

"Just leave already! Aren't you embarrassed, clinging like this?"

The secretary, clearly annoyed by my very presence, gestured toward the door.

Not wanting to waste another moment on them, I cut to the chase. "Fine. But before I go, let's make one thing clear—my firewall, the one I personally designed, is my intellectual property. It's patented. If I'm leaving, I'm taking it with me. I won't let anyone coast on my work."