At the company’s celebration banquet, my husband, Daniel Murphy, raised his glass and took a drink—for his female secretary.

Then, with a lazy smile, he pulled the visibly flustered Elena Brooks up onto the stage.

“This big project took five years to finally complete,” he began. “Everyone worked hard, but no one more than my secretary, Elena. For the past two years, she’s worked day and night without rest.”

He paused, then smiled as if he was handing out candy.

“To show my appreciation, I’ve decided to appoint her as the new Product Department Manager and award her a 15% stake in the company. I hope everyone can learn from her dedication.”

The hall erupted into murmurs and whispers. Every gaze immediately turned toward me.

There was only one reason for the commotion—I was the current Product Department Manager.

Daniel, seemingly indifferent to my presence or reaction—or perhaps never once considering I might object—allowed himself to be helped off the stage by Elena, slightly tipsy and utterly unaware of the knife he’d just driven into my back.

I couldn't feel the eyes burning into me. All I felt was a cold, numbing chill sweeping through my body.

Just like that, with a single offhand announcement, my five years of effort—everything I’d built—was handed to someone else without a second thought.

At that moment, I knew our relationship was over.

I made up an excuse to leave the event early and went straight to the hospital to schedule my next abortion.

As I sat in the waiting room with my hand over my stomach, I was calmer than I expected.

I loved this child more than anything—but I couldn’t sacrifice my entire life for a child.

In my phone’s memo, I jotted down three things.

Abortion. Divorce. Change companies.

This time, I was the one who didn’t want him anymore.

After the procedure, I took a taxi home.

When I walked into the living room, Daniel was passed out, lazily sprawled across the sofa. Elena was sitting close beside him, leaning in to untie his tie. From a distance, it looked like they were about to kiss.

At the sound of the door, she quickly glanced at me and leapt up, pretending to be flustered.

“Mrs. Murphy,” she said sweetly. “Mr. Murphy drank a bit too much tonight—he was covering for me. I was worried he wouldn’t feel well, so I brought him home. Please don’t misunderstand.”

Her tone held a subtle challenge, one I didn’t bother acknowledging. I just smiled to myself.

I had been the one who hired Elena. I saw in her the same hunger and fire I once had—the same refusal to give up. That was why I brought her on board. Never in a million years did I imagine she would repay me like this.

But now that I no longer cared about Daniel, why should I care about her?

“There’s no misunderstanding,” I replied coolly. “Thank you for the trouble.”

She seemed momentarily stunned by my lack of reaction. Her smile faltered. Then she turned to look at Daniel again, her expression filled with reluctant affection.

“I’ll be heading out, then,” she said. “I made some hangover soup in the kitchen. Make sure to feed it to Mr. Murphy while it’s still warm.”

After she left, I sat down by myself and carefully reviewed the divorce agreement the lawyer had just sent over. Once I confirmed everything was in order, I printed it out and signed my name.

Daniel must have grown tired of waiting because he rubbed his temples, opened his eyes and frowned at me with irritation.

“Is there anything more important than taking care of me?” he muttered. “Anyway, Elena’s been working hard too. Tomorrow, make an extra portion of medicinal food—I’ll bring it to the office for her.”

In the past, I never needed him to say anything. Anything related to him was always my top priority.

When he started the company and needed help, I gave up a stable, high-paying job to build it with him from scratch.

When he was running around, exhausting himself, I taught myself how to make medicinal meals to support his health.

When he needed to secure a project, I went out drinking with clients on his behalf—even while I was pregnant.

Looking back now, I had never once said no. And for what?

It was all meaningless.

Without glancing at him, I pressed the pen to paper and signed my name.

“I can’t do it,” I said flatly. “Ask your good secretary instead.”

“Not just medicinal dishes—whatever you need, ask her. She can satisfy you, anyway.”

His expression darkened. Even the haze of alcohol seemed to clear as he stared at me.

“What are you trying to say?”

“She’s just a young girl, Kayla. Don’t use your dirty tricks on her.”

I looked up at him.

It was still the same familiar face—but it felt like I was staring at a stranger.

Dirty tricks.

So that’s how he saw me now.

Four years of dating, three years of marriage and still I couldn’t compete with a secretary he’d only known for two years.

The seven-year itch… maybe it really was inevitable.

For a moment, I actually felt like laughing. But my abdomen—still sore from the surgery—twisted in pain, waves of it brought on by the emotional strain.

Maybe my face had gone too pale, because Daniel suddenly softened his voice. His eyes dropped to my stomach.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “Since you’re tired, you don’t have to prepare the medicinal soup. You’re pregnant now, so you should be resting more. I only asked Elena to assist you because I didn’t want you overworking yourself.”

He straightened up slightly and added, “I know today is your birthday, so I got you a gift.”

He pushed a gift box toward me. I opened it, my face blank.

It was empty.

His expression stiffened. For a split second, he looked helpless, like he’d just remembered something.

“You know Elena’s family isn’t well off. She didn’t want to be embarrassed at the banquet, so I lent her the necklace. I’ll have her return it tomorrow.”

He waved it off with a shrug.

“It’s just a small thing. Don’t be so petty.”

His words stabbed into me like needles—each one sharper than the last.

It hurt, yes.

But more than that, it woke me up.

I didn’t even look at the box again. Instead, I pushed the divorce agreement across the table toward him.

“Daniel, let’s get a divorce. I’ve already signed the papers. I’m not asking for a single penny.”

“Not just one Product Manager—go ahead, give the whole company to Elena if you want. I won’t say a word.”

Daniel froze.

Then, as if struggling to suppress his rising frustration, he took a deep breath and tried a gentler tone.

“If you don’t want that necklace, I’ll buy you another one. What do you want? Jewelry? A car? A house?”

He stepped forward and grabbed my wrist tightly, his voice laced with warning.

“Kayla, I’m exhausted. I don’t have the energy to keep guessing what kind of games you’re playing. Don’t push me.”

There was no warmth in his eyes now.

Only cold calculation—like he was negotiating with a client, not speaking to his wife.

But I remembered, years ago, when he had nothing—just a young man in a rented apartment, clinging to me like I was his only hope, swearing he’d give me a better life.

I took a deep breath and swallowed the bitterness.

“Why do you think everything can be solved with money?”

“Daniel, I never asked you for anything. It’s you who never respected my hard work. You didn’t respect my feelings. You didn’t respect my love.”

“So let’s divorce.”

His face hardened, his voice dipping into a low growl.

“You’re serious? Just because I helped her avoid drinking tonight?”

“Is it necessary to make such a big deal?”

“At the banquet, you walked out halfway through—I didn’t say a word. I got drunk and Elena brought me home. You’ve been picking fights ever since. What more do you want from me?”

He looked at my stomach again, then exhaled, annoyed.

“I get that you’re sensitive because of the pregnancy. Haven’t I been taking good care of you? Can’t you try to understand me for once? I’m working hard so you can have a better life.”

Even now, he didn’t understand.

He never understood.

I turned away and calmly pulled my wrist out of his grip.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve already had an abortion.”

“I can live just fine on my own.”

“You what?” His face flushed with rage. He grabbed my chin roughly, forcing me to look at him.

“Have you forgotten how cruel the real world is just because you’ve been living too comfortably? Kayla, what can you even do without me?”

After a few tense seconds, he let go of my chin and gave a final warning, his voice low and ice-cold.

“You’re not eighteen anymore. Stop being so childish. If you ever try to use the baby to threaten me again, I won’t hold back.”

He stormed off, stepping onto the balcony as his phone rang.

The man who’d just threatened me with such cruelty now spoke in a soft, coaxing voice on the call—comforting the woman on the other end, telling her not to worry.

I touched my chin. It was still red from where he’d gripped it.

I felt nothing now—no sadness, no fury. Just… numb.

All this over a drink with his secretary?

On the surface, it seemed like a ridiculous reason to divorce.

But I knew the truth better than anyone.

He treated that girl like a fragile treasure, shielding her with everything he had.

Even the staff joked that Mr. Murphy had finally found true love.

What a joke.

Because once upon a time, when I was eighteen—I was his true love, too.

A few years ago, Atherton City wasn’t like it is now.

Back then, the world felt chaotic. People spent recklessly and the streets buzzed with unrest.

To pay for school, I worked part-time at a restaurant after class.

One evening, a group of customers blocked my path. Their eyes leered at me as they spoke in their slang I couldn’t understand. One of them reached out and touched me.

I tried to dodge them, but they jostled me anyway. The beer I was carrying spilled, splashing across the floor—and soaking my chest.

My uniform clung to my skin, wet and transparent. The entire room seemed to turn and stare.

I went pale. Embarrassed, I hunched forward, covering myself and bowing repeatedly in apology.

But no one moved. No one spoke. To them, I was just a waitress and this was just a spectacle.

I didn’t remember how many times I said sorry, but the harassment didn’t stop. One of the men stared straight at me with that same disgusting look and muttered something obscene.

He said I wasn’t selling beer—I was selling my body.

That was when Daniel appeared.

Without hesitation, he stepped in front of me, shielding me behind him as he barked out furious curses at the men.

They argued. Then the shouting turned to shoving.

Tables overturned. Plates shattered on the floor.

A beer bottle crashed against Daniel’s head, but he didn’t even flinch. He wiped the blood away, then hurried to pay for the damage.

I dragged him to the nearest pharmacy, my hands trembling, my eyes burning with tears.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I’ll pay you back.”

“There’s no need,” he said simply. “I just couldn’t stand watching them bully someone.”

Noticing I was on the verge of tears, he smirked and teased, “I saved your life. Shouldn’t you repay me with your body?”

I froze, stunned.

He burst out laughing, then stood up and waved casually as he left.

“Relax, I’m just kidding. But try not to look so pathetic next time we meet.”

And just like that, something stirred in me.

Later, I found out we were actually classmates.

He rarely came to class—busy with his startup—but I had seen him on campus a few times. I wanted to talk to him, but he was always surrounded by other students and I was too shy to approach.

It was Daniel who made the first move.

He started coming to the restaurant where I worked, worried that those men might try to retaliate.

That one encounter brought us closer.

We started dating in our sophomore year.

At eighteen, Daniel once spent the whole night knocking on flower shop doors. He laid a sea of roses beneath my tiny rental apartment and stood there until morning—just to confess his feelings.

When I opened the door, he shoved the flowers into my arms, flashing that boyish grin.

“If other girls get this kind of thing, then you should too,” he said, handing me all his savings without hesitation.

“Kayla, be with me and I’ll protect you. If one day you regret choosing me, just say the word—and I’ll let you go.”

“But that day will never come.”

“I won’t let you regret this, Kayla. Trust me.”

And I did trust him.

So when his business hit rough patches later on, I didn’t hesitate to quit my job and help him full-time.

He was always good to me.

He never let me drink, not even one glass—even when he was drunk himself, he’d still stand in front of me to shield me.

I thought it would always be like that.

But I forgot—people change.

As time went on, he became obsessed with the company.

The man who once fought for me now sent me out to close deals and entertain clients on my own, like it was nothing.

Daniel finished his call on the balcony and walked past me without so much as a glance.

Of course. After seven years, even an object can grow dull—let alone a person.

I swallowed the wave of memories crashing through me, felt the ache bloom in my chest and picked up my phone.

I dialed the number I knew by heart.

“Is your previous offer still open?” I asked quietly.

“I’m willing to join your company.”

“But there’s one condition—I want real power.”