Fergus's explanation for all of it went like this:

"Belinda works incredibly hard, and she's talented. I can't hold it against her just because she's young and fresh out of school, can I?"

"I only transferred her to be my secretary for work purposes. As for the lunch thing... she's just so dedicated that she keeps working through lunch to help me process documents, so she started bringing her meal to my office. That's all."

"There's nothing between us. But hey, if it bothers you—if you're jealous—just say the word and I'll get rid of her tomorrow."

I wasn't the type to meddle with the company over gossip and gut feelings.

I pulled Belinda's file myself, sat in on a few meetings she ran. The girl was meticulous, capable, knew exactly when to press and when to ease off. I was impressed enough to pay off every cent of her student loans, push through a raise, and promote her all the way to chief secretary. I even warned the staff to knock off the rumor mill—stop making up stories about a young woman who was just trying to build a career.

I thought I was investing in someone with real potential.

Turns out I was just feeding the wolf inside her.

It started with the door code. She kept saying she needed constant access to pick up documents for Fergus, and before I knew it, she'd changed the code to our home to her own birthday.

When I confronted her, she apologized with tears brimming in her eyes, looking wounded and small.

That same night, she took a drunk Fergus and didn't come back. Her phone was off. Every call went to voicemail.

I searched for a full day and night. I was dialing the police when Fergus finally called—casual, unhurried—to say he was already home. I nearly tripped over myself getting back, and there she was: standing in my kitchen, in my pajamas, flipping something on my stove for Fergus's breakfast.

She saw me and her eyes went red.

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Fox. I know I'm hopeless—I just couldn't keep your door code straight. Mr. Henson was so drunk, and I couldn't get the door open, so I had no choice but to take him to a hotel for the night. But don't worry, nothing happened between us."

Anger surged through me and I opened my mouth to speak.

Fergus cut in first, his face turning to stone. He pointed at the front door.

"Six digits. You can't remember six digits. And you don't know how to turn on a phone. If the chief secretary job is too complicated for you, don't bother showing up tomorrow."

Belinda burst into tears on the spot.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Henson, I really didn't mean it! Please don't fire me! My mother's surgery costs two hundred thousand, and she's counting on my salary to cover it!"

"You fire me and my whole family goes under!"

Fergus looked at her, ice cold.

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to my wife. She's pregnant, and you're the one putting her through this. If she doesn't forgive you today, you can cry yourself blind for all I care—you're still gone."

Belinda dropped to her knees in front of me and started slapping herself across the face, one cheek and then the other.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Fox. I was just afraid that knocking on the door in the middle of the night would wake you and hurt the baby."

"I'm clumsy with words, I have no sense for these things, and I messed up! Hit me! Yell at me! Just please don't fire me!"

I looked at her like that, and in the end I said nothing. I just told her to leave.

Fergus pulled me into his arms afterward, holding on like he'd never let go.

"Babe, how are you this kind? She made you upset and I was ready to fire her on the spot."

"But you said you'd forgive her, so I'll follow your lead. Don't worry though—I'm going to bury her in work, keep her late every single night. Call it punishment."

Back then, I still melted into the warmth of it. Never once did I think to question whether any of it was real.

But Belinda never stopped. She kept crossing lines, kept pushing closer, each time a little bolder than the last.

She had access to my cards. My accounts. All of it, just like that.

And there was no way that happened without Fergus behind it.

No way.

When I woke up, Fergus still hadn't appeared.

But my attorney was waiting at my bedside, ready to brief me.

"CEO Henson has taken his secretary to an off-site meeting. He says he won't be back until tomorrow."

He studied my expression carefully before continuing:

"I checked the attendance logs from the past two weeks. The two of them have been leaving together for 'meetings' constantly... but the destinations—"

He handed me a printout. Every single destination listed on those so-called business trips was nowhere near any of our partner companies. They were all resort towns. Vacation hotspots.

"I also spoke with some employees at the company. They said Belinda Swanson's Instagram is full of screenshots from these trips with CEO Henson... Would you like to see?"

He held out his phone. The screen was filled with screenshot after screenshot.

Every one was a carefully staged collage Belinda had posted.

The captions read things like:

"Thanks to CEO Henson for driving me home tonight! This is our special time for two."

"I complained about working overtime and a certain someone sent me a little 'bonus'... the Hermès bag I've had my eye on forever!"

"I mentioned wanting to see the Eiffel Tower, and he flew me there that same night. If this isn't love, what is?"

The attorney went on:

"We looked into Belinda Swanson's college history and discovered she had a financial sponsor during her university years. That sponsor was Mr. Henson."

"Her college roommate told us Belinda used to brag about having a wealthy older benefactor. That person was Mr. Henson."

Hearing it confirmed with my own ears that Fergus had betrayed me long ago—

It cut straight through me.

The attorney placed a folder in my hands and said quietly:

"There's also... we found this. I think you should see it."

I opened the folder. One glance, and my legs buckled. I barely caught myself from falling.

I gripped the folder, my voice shaking:

"Take me home first. I need... I need a moment."

But when I walked through the front door, strangers were moving through my home. Cases of jewelry were being carried out of the bedroom—my bridal jewelry, the pieces my parents had spent twenty years collecting for me, every priceless heirloom, hauled out and shoved into a safe right in front of me.

I rushed over and grabbed the movers:

"What do you think you're doing? Put my things down!"

They shook my hands off without a flicker of expression, loading item after item into the safe. Then one of them turned to me and said:

"From now on, your jewelry, accessories, handbags, and gowns are all under Ms. Swanson's control. If you want to use any of them, you write a five-thousand-word request and submit it through the internal approval portal. Ms. Swanson approves it, you get your things. She doesn't, you don't."

I was shaking so hard I couldn't stop. I pulled out my phone and called Fergus.

Belinda answered. Her voice was bright, almost amused:

"Wow, one day and you're already well enough to come crawling to him? I knew it—you were faking the whole thing just to squeeze out more money!"

"And all that nonsense about going into labor soon. Your due date isn't until next week!"

"Oh, right—Mamie! I almost forgot. Since your due date is next Wednesday, I'll only cover the medical expenses if you deliver on that exact day. Baby comes any other day? That's on your own dime."

I held everything in, every ounce of fury pressed down tight:

"Belinda Swanson! Who gave you permission to touch my jewelry? Tell your people to return my things right now, or I'm calling the police and reporting you for theft!"

Belinda scoffed, not a shred of concern in her voice.

"Your things? Ms. Fox, do you even remember who you are? You were a nobody clerk. You married CEO Henson—that's the only reason you ever got to wear jewelry worth tens of millions or touch gowns worth millions."

"You're so obsessed with money you can't even buy milk tea without spending CEO Henson's cash. Who's to say you won't turn around and sell off the jewelry, the accessories, the luxury goods he gave you?"

"As CEO Henson's secretary, it's my duty to protect his assets. So from now on, unless I give you permission, don't even think about touching any of it."

"Belinda Swanson! You've gone too far!"

I was shaking with rage.

"Too far?"

She laughed, light and unbothered.

"Oh, that reminds me. I hear your mother is still staying at the hospital our CEO Henson invested in? Right? Honestly—a broke little woman saddled with a bloodsucking wreck of a mother."

"She's been sick for how many years now? Who knows how much of CEO Henson's money she's wasted. So, to keep his money from being thrown away any further, I had someone escort your mother out."

The room tilted. My knees nearly buckled and I couldn't stop shaking, couldn't think past the roaring in my ears. I screamed into the phone.

"Belinda Swanson! Have you lost your mind?! My mother can't leave her oxygen chamber! What you've done is murder!"

I hung up and threw myself into the car, racing straight to the hospital.

That was when I found out: Belinda had taken my mother's VIP suite and given it to her own mother.

Some of the hospital's senior staff were people I'd promoted years ago—they'd gotten my mother into a new room just in time, close enough to disaster that I couldn't breathe when I heard.

Looking at my mother's colorless face, I couldn't hold back anymore.

I turned to Attorney Pierce.

"Throw Belinda Swanson's mother out onto the street."

"Every dollar I ever spent paying off that woman's loans, every cent I covered for her mother's medical bills, I want it all back."

"And I'm pressing charges against Belinda Swanson. Attempted murder."

I tucked the blanket tighter around my mother's shoulders.

By the time I stood up, I was calm again.

"Take me to the company."

"Since the ingrates I fed with my own hands have shown their teeth, I'll rip them out myself."

The moment I walked into Sterling Group, the employees who recognized me stared with a mix of shock and barely concealed gossip.

"What's Ms. Fox doing here?"

"You think she found out about CEO Henson? Came here to make a scene?"

"She's a housewife. How's she going to fight CEO Henson? If you ask me, she'd be better off looking the other way. At least she'd still get to live like a rich man's wife."

I kept my eyes straight ahead. None of it reached me.

I was heading straight for Fergus's office when someone stepped in front of me.

A young woman I'd never seen before, looking me up and down with open contempt.

"This area isn't for people like you to just waltz into. Get out."

A nearby employee rushed over to explain.

"Chloe, that's Ms. Fox! Let her through—"

But the girl called Chloe didn't flinch.

She gave me a slow once-over, then smirked.

"So you're the wife? This old? No wonder CEO Henson can't stand you anymore."

"This is a company, not somewhere for you to come make a scene. You'd better run home before CEO Henson gets here—unless you want him to dump you for real."

Murmurs rippled through the staff around us. Eyes landed on me, some pitying, some hungry for the show.

I let out a cold laugh, signaled my bodyguard to pin her, and slapped her across the face.