"Scram, your worthless scum!" Jake bellowed. "I bet you sniffed out Monica's success and cash. Figured you could mooch off her."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Her success and cash? Every bit of it traces back to me. Ask her."

The spectators erupted in chuckles.

"Give it a rest! Ms. Bowman is an Ivy League whiz, steering this whole ship. She recruited Mr. Finley and spearheaded the national AI initiative."

"Do you even grasp what an elite graduate means? Our research focus? That cheapo watch on your arm is probably a bargain bin from Amazon, right? Ms. Bowman gifted Mr. Finley a Rolex."

I glanced at my wrist. The watch was Monica's present for our first anniversary. I'd cherished its sentiment, despite its modesty.

Now Jake's flashy Rolex glared at me.

He flaunted it. "Bet you've never seen luxury, delivery boy. Stuck slinging bouquets for chump change."

Their tag-team mockery unfolded like a scripted farce, each line amplifying the ridicule.

"I don't recall seeing you at the national lab," I countered.

Three years ago, I'd groveled to my father for a billion dollars to settle gambling debts for Monica's brother, freeing her from her family's grip.

Post-marriage, I'd integrated her into my institute to bolster her prestige, even handing over management to let her shine.

"Monica with you? Delusional!" Jake scoffed. "Claiming national lab creds? Hilarious! Just dial 911 and cart this loon off."

Ignoring the jeers, I pressed Monica. "Are you sure he is your legally wedded husband? Who owns this institute? You know the answer better than anyone else. Even if you're the manager, I can boot you out anytime."

Before she could respond, Jake inserted himself like a human shield. "Who are you to threaten her here? Our elite team reports to her, and they've snagged global awards."

Monica fidgeted silently, twisting fabric between her fingers. She'd conveniently forgotten one fact. I'd headhunted that team with premium salaries.

They were my dad's former students, brought in to guide her and pad her resume with prestige projects.

In my absence, they had bombarded me with complaints of Monica dismissing their expertise and dragging unqualified outsiders into sensitive areas.

I'd pleaded with them to hang on, promising to set things right upon my return.

Yet Monica strutted around like she owned the place, oblivious to the strings I'd pulled.

"Pipe-dreaming fool! Hit the bricks! No shot I'd stoop to your level!" she said.

I smirked, unfazed. "By all means, fetch the paperwork and see whose signature seals it."

"Total crap!" Jake bellowed, charging like a bull. His hands clawed for my throat. "You sneaky rat! If you don't bounce, prepare for the pain! Hold him, folks. I'm filming this and posting it online."

The rubberneckers, thrilled at the invitation to pile on, swarmed me in a frenzy.

A fistful of my hair got ripped out in the scuffle, my shirt hanging in tatters.

Adrenaline surged, but lab life had sapped my strength. I couldn't shake them off.

I was pinned face-first to the cold floor, my arms wrenched behind my back. They whooped with glee, capturing my humiliation with their phones.

"Busted the sidepiece. First time jumping into the fray."

"Blast it to his flower gig and viral accounts. Expose this arrogant prick to the world."

Humiliation burned my cheeks, but resistance was futile.

As they hauled me toward the exit, a trio of familiar faces entered.

"Monica, when is my start date here? You promised today," one of them asked.

Their eyes met mine, and panic flashed across their features. They shuffled backward instinctively.

"This loser was punching way above. Watch me toss him out!" Jake yanked me upright. "He spouts off that Monica is his wife. Luckily, I am around, or God knows what stunt he'd pull."

Those people bobbed their heads in agreement, giving me a once-over before pivoting away. "Sort it out. We'll come back later."

"Gambling debts paid?" I sneered at their hasty retreat.

Memories of them borrowing money from me flooded back. They had forced Monica's brother to beg me desperately.

Post-payoff, they'd turned saccharine, fawning over me to secure their meal ticket.

Yet now, Ryan Bowman came up and shoved me hard. "Shut your trap! A scrub like you is no match for my sister. Only Jake deserves her."

His grotesque sneer fueled my disgust. I spat, "Birds of a feather! Savor these final moments. I won't let you off."

Monica tugged Jake's sleeve. "Just eject him already. We've got work to do."

I memorized their faces. This betrayal would not go unpunished.

"Hold up!" Jake clamped my arm. "Can't let him slink off that easily. Flowers are strewn on the floor. No waste. Chow them down."

Monica's silence endorsed his madness.

"You're deranged! That mess is on you!" I yelled.

Jake's eyes narrowed. "Delivery is your game. We reject it, and you eat the loss."

Wriggling free in a surge of fury, I landed stinging slaps on both their faces. Amid the stunned chaos, I discreetly hit a button in my pocket.

"Get him!" Monica shrieked, cradling her cheek. "Shove every petal down his throat!"

They swarmed like hyenas, forcing my jaw apart while scraping up the debris.

Rose thorns gouged my cheeks, drawing blood that mingled with the cloying floral aroma. I gagged on the metallic tang and prickly invasion, my throat raw and protesting.

The crimson chaos blurred my vision. The tokens of affection I'd chosen so carefully were now weaponized against me.

Monica and Jake observed with sadistic smirks, their eyes alight with vindictive triumph.

I glared at them, determined to seek my revenge.

Abruptly, the door burst open, ushering in a squad of men in black tactical gear. "Freeze! Release him now!"