When we married, he told me half of Stellaris Group would always be mine.
I never saw the need to fight over things like that.
But Shelagh Pruitt's appearance made it impossible to keep lying to myself.
By the time I got home, I was choking on everything I'd swallowed that day.
I picked up my phone and scrolled for a long time, looking for someone—anyone—I could call. There was no one.
Eight years with Drew Henson.
I'd already lost my friends, my life, all of it.
My world had shrunk to nothing but work.
And now work was gone too.
I was driftwood with no roots.
Floating, directionless, with no idea what to do next.
In the end, all I could think was to sleep first and figure it out later.
Somewhere in the blur of half-sleep, a hand brushed the tears from the corner of my eye.
Drew's cool voice reached me from close by.
"Still upset about today?"
"I did it for your sake."
"You've worked so hard all these years. Stay home now. Rest. Get your health back."
"You won't want for anything. I'll make sure of that."
On the money side, Drew's conscience was clear enough.
But emotionally, he owed me more than he'd ever care to count.
A man as sharp as Drew couldn't possibly have missed that I was in love with him.
He knew about the feelings I had buried so deep.
So he deliberately paid me the lowest salary to keep me working for him.
Deliberately told me he loved me so I'd stand by him through the company's worst years.
Deliberately took my proposal and handed it to Shelagh so she could shine.
He banked on my feelings.
And used them to trample me as he pleased.
When I didn't respond, Drew patted my back gently.
"Delilah. Listen to me."
"A woman your age should be thinking about family, not chasing a career."
"Stop overthinking it. Why don't we try for another baby?"
His low voice carried something almost hypnotic.
He didn't give me time to hesitate.
He took my hand and leaned over me.
The instant he drew close, a wave of cloying perfume hit me full in the face.
Shelagh's scent. On him.
Nausea lurched up from my stomach.
I was about to push him off.
He stopped first.
His gaze had dropped to the loose skin of my belly.
The disgust in his eyes was identical to the look he'd given me in the conference room that afternoon.
In the rigid silence, his phone rang.
Drew seemed almost relieved.
He answered, and left.
And I couldn't hold on anymore.
I buried my face in the blanket and wailed. Years of love and self-respect—gone, all of it, right then.
I cried alone through the entire night.
By the time the sky lightened, I had made my decision. I called the lawyer.
When Drew and I married, Stellaris Group was nowhere near the scale it was now.
We had never signed any prenuptial agreement.
The law said I could walk away with half the company's shares.
If Drew could destroy my career without batting an eye, then I could take everything he valued most, in my own way.
I went over the details with the lawyer.
He advised me to go back to Stellaris Group and review the company's financials for myself.
I agreed.
On the way there, Shelagh dropped my photo into the company group chat—the one of me pissing myself—along with a mocking sticker.
"Doesn't Delilah Simmons squatting there peeing in public look just like a stray dog?"
"How could someone like that ever be VP? She's a disgrace to the whole company!"
A stream of colleagues chimed in beneath it.
I tried to reply, and found I'd already been removed from the chat.
I put my phone away and headed straight for the office.
