I braced myself for another stomachache right after the company meeting.

But what I saw made me freeze—one of the new male employees had cornered Stephanie in the bathroom.

“President Myers,” he said with a smirk, his hand suggestively sliding around her waist. “I heard you're still untouched. Let me help you break the ice. In exchange, how about making me the new company director?”

Stephanie was famous for her cold, ascetic nature.

I’d lost count of how many handsome men had tried this same trick, only to be sent packing with a single frosty glare.

But this time, Stephanie narrowed her eyes, smiled, tilted his chin up and kissed him.

“If you can manage seven times a night,” she murmured, “I might just consider it.”

I watched them walk away together, side by side. I told myself it was all an act, some power play she was putting on for show.

But then, at two in the morning, she called.

“Liam,” her voice came through calmly, “starting tomorrow, you’ll be transferred to the branch office as Vice President. As for the Director role… I have other plans.”

——

She hung up before I could respond.

I stared at the screen, stunned. My limbs went cold.

I fumbled to call her back. She picked up almost immediately.

“What now, Liam?” she said, a little impatient.

Then, a stifled moan escaped from her lips.

I froze, nausea rising as I fought to steady my voice.

“Stephanie… where are you? I want to talk. In person—”

Before I could finish, another man's voice interrupted, full of smug satisfaction.

“President Myers, feel that?”

“How do my abs feel? Good, right?”

It was Dean Henry. His low, teasing voice made my blood run cold.

Stephanie's tone turned dismissive. “It’s late. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Then came the sound of shuffling sheets—and the call ended.

I stood there, staring at the blank screen, heart sinking into despair.

Stephanie was my fiancée of ten years.

To the outside world, she was the ideal girlfriend—loyal, devoted, untouchable. Everyone joked she was immune to men, that her eyes only saw me.

She said she wanted to wait until marriage.

And I respected her. Every time I was tempted, I forced myself into a cold shower.

After college, she took over the family business and became a feared and admired young executive. Countless employees tried to seduce her, hoping to climb the success.

Each one was swiftly rejected.

Once, she even included them in a PPT for a company-wide meeting. “Anyone with ill intentions like this—pack up and go settle with finance.”

She ended the presentation by pointing at my photo.

“This is my fiancé, Liam Jones. I will only marry him. Ever.”

But everything changed the day Dean Henry joined the company.

She never mentioned her principles again.

Even the photo of me hanging in her office disappeared.

I asked her about it yesterday, forcing a smile.

“Where’s my picture?”

A flicker of guilt passed through her eyes, but she quickly laughed it off.

“Sweetheart, it was an old photo. I called a photographer—we’ll get a new set taken soon, just the two of us.”

Sensing my disappointment, she held my hand, coaxing.

“Don’t pout. After work, I’ll treat you to hot pot, alright?”

I nodded and went back to handling documents.

While she stepped out for something, my gaze drifted to the trash bin—and I froze.

There, dumped carelessly, was the very photo she took down. Still in its frame.

I picked it up.

My face had been slashed with a blade—dozens of cuts. Torn. Mangled.

And the back of the frame? Stained with some foul-smelling, unknown liquid.

I stormed out, ready to confront Stephanie—only to run straight into Dean.

He bumped into me deliberately, sending a box tumbling to the floor. Pink foil packets spilled everywhere.

“Oops, sorry, Director Jones.”

He bent down to gather them and I instinctively knelt to help—only to freeze when I saw what they were.

Condoms.

“This isn’t something you should bring to the office,” I said sharply. “Mind the image you're projecting.”

Trying to be civil, I kept my tone neutral.

But Dean just grinned wider.

“No choice,” he said casually. “My girlfriend's needs are... intense. No matter where we are, she expects me to be prepared.”

He gave me a pointed look, rubbing his waist dramatically.

“I heard you're President Myers’s fiancé? We're all adults. Don't you ever need these?”

I flushed and turned away, coughing to cover my discomfort.

Looking back now, I realize, everything he said was on purpose.

I didn’t sleep a wink that night.

Sometime before dawn, I opened my phone for the third time and saw Dean Henry’s new post.

A hotel bed with white sheets.

A woman’s bare shoulder in the foreground.

His abs front and center, flashing a peace sign at the camera.

The caption:

[Told you, no woman can resist me. Even the most ascetic ice queen ends up begging in my bed.]

My heart turned to ice.

Then, the next update popped up.

[Promotion unlocked. From now on, it’s Director Henry to you.]

I stared at my phone for what felt like hours.

Pain gripped my stomach, yanking me back to reality.

The medicine was gone. I dragged myself out at dawn to buy more, dark circles under my eyes.

Then I waited at the neighborhood gate.

For the past five years, Stephanie had picked me up every morning without fail.

But today was different.

Ten minutes passed.

Just as I decided to call a ride, her voice rang in my ear.

“Liam, sorry, I overslept. Can’t pick you up. And didn’t I tell you? You’re heading to the branch now, Vice President.”

I said nothing.

Through the car window, I saw her step out of a hotel, hand-in-hand with Dean Henry.

The buttons on her white shirt were undone, hair a mess.

Dean grinned as he pulled her close and kissed her.

I hung up, heart turning in my chest, stomach in knots.

Stephanie had chased me all through college.

She brought me breakfast daily. On Valentine’s Day, she covered the entire field with roses, holding up a sign that read: [I love Liam Jones.]

She chased off any girl who approached me.

“Liam Jones belongs to Stephanie,” she’d say proudly.

Even as her career soared and socializing became inevitable, she’d smile and say, “My boyfriend’s too strict.”

One time, she was even drugged at a party. Instead of caving, she called an ambulance and had herself hospitalized to avoid being touched.

Later, she clung to me with tears in her eyes, like a hurt puppy.

“I saved myself for you, Liam. You have to marry me.”

Our wedding was set for next month.

And yet, she still betrayed me.

I tried to suppress it all—pushed the images, the sounds, out of my mind—and headed to the office like normal.

“Vice President Jones?” someone called out in surprise. “Why are you back here?”

Even my assistant looked stunned.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the branch office? As Vice President?”

“I was planning to talk to President Myers today,” I said. “The current project is at a critical stage. It’s a multimillion-dollar deal, I brought the client in, I’ve maintained the relationship.”

But when I walked into my office to pour water, I froze.

The office was completely changed.

My chair had been replaced with a luxury massage chair. My cup was gone. Flowers and plants covered the windowsill.

“Where are my things?” I asked.

“Over here,” came a voice from behind me.

It was Dean Henry.

He crossed his arms and gestured at a cardboard box by the door.

“I had my assistant pack them up for you. Been ready for an hour.”

He was still in a white shirt, several buttons undone.

A red hickey marked his neck.

As if afraid I’d miss it, he tugged his collar down even more.

I asked him, voice strained, where my project files had gone.

He smiled provocatively.

“President Myers gave them to me. All of them.”

I stared him down.

“I want to see Stephanie.”

Dean leaned in close, voice low and mocking.

“She was up all night and needs rest. Besides, she’s satisfied and has no desire to see you.”

“Want to know what we were doing when you called last night?”

I turned to leave.

He grabbed my hand and shoved it against his abs.

“That icy goddess of yours? She was desperate, pulling me in, begging—”

I lost control.

I slapped him.

He stumbled, clutching his face dramatically—just as Stephanie appeared and caught him in her arms.

Tears welled in his eyes as he played the victim.

“President Myers, don’t blame him. It’s my fault. He hates me for getting the director position... I must’ve pushed him too far...”

Stephanie looked up, her eyes cold.

“Liam, this is a company, not a place for your tantrums.”

I trembled with rage, yet still held myself back.

“At least let me finish this project. It’s only a few more days. I can’t let all that work go to waste.”

Her tone was firm. Dismissive.

“Even if you’re my fiancé, you still have to follow company policy.”

“You’re transferring to the branch. Effective immediately. You won’t be staying here.”

A clean sweep.

Get me out of the way, so she could flaunt her affair in peace.

I took a long breath, the exhaustion settling deep in my bones.

“Stephanie, you know how much I sacrificed to become Director.”

She knew how obsessed I was with my career.

I could give up anything, but not my work.

Even if she no longer loved me, even if she had someone else.

She had no right to take away everything I built with my own two hands.