Chapter 1
I had just closed a $300 million deal for the company. My husband, Ethan Foster, was so thrilled that he joked about getting me a watch. Grinning, he grabbed a marker and sketched a cartoon watch on my wrist.
“Sweetheart,” he said, voice teasing, “the company’s taken a hit this year. I’ll get you a real one next year, promise.”
Later that night, I was scrolling through Instagram when a post from Zoey Shaw-Ethan’s assistant-popped up.
There she was, beaming under the glow of a rooftop candle display, while Ethan by her side. On her wrist? A
limited-edition watch worth over $100 million. The caption read:
“When a man truly loves you, he gives you something no one else has.”
So, the problem wasn’t the company’s finances.
It was that I wasn’t worth it.
I didn’t throw a fit. I just quietly liked the post.
Her comment section blew up within minutes.
Not long after, Ethan called me, panic thick in his voice.
“Babe, it’s not what it looks like! I only bought her that watch to boost morale. Motivate the staff, you know?”
“Just unlike the post, clear it up in the comments, and I’ll make it up to you. How about a honeymoon this year, huh?”
I was tired. Tired of the empty promises, the gaslighting, the crumbs.
“Don’t bother,” I said, flat. “Let’s just get a divorce.”
Silence. Then his voice sharpened.
“I was trying to motivate the team, Jane. Half the company belongs to you-what I do benefits you, too! If you can’t appreciate that, fine. But tossing out the word divorce like that? That’s not funny.”
“Marriage isn’t a damn joke. I’m warning you-don’t do this again.”
“You had your chance to help me out. You chose not to. So don’t blame me for what happens next.”
He hung up, his anger still buzzing in the silence.
I looked up at the divorce window ahead and let out a long breath.
He didn’t understand-I was done.
This time, I meant it.
The line was long, I sat there with my number ticket, scrolling through my phone. Zoey’s Instagram comments were still flooding in-most of them from my team, venting their anger on my behalf.
“Stealing someone’s husband? Your manners are impressive. Mind teaching me how to social climb that fast?”
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“So sucking up gets you further than hard work. Damn. Wish I’d known sooner.”
The sarcasm was relentless.
No wonder Ethan called, practically begging me to take it down. His darling Zoey was getting dragged.
But the thing is… everything they said was true.
Zoey had a pretty face and not much else. But Ethan had still turned down Ivy League grads just to make room for her, a
community college hire he bent the rules to bring in.
The office buzzed with rumors. People weren’t happy. When I asked Ethan about it, he just gave me a look like I’d let him
down.
“I thought you were different,” he said coldly. “I didn’t think you were the type to judge someone by their degrees.”
“Did you forget why we started this company? To give everyone a fair shot-level the playing field.”
I bought into it. Guilt clawed at me. I told HR to focus on talent, not resumes.
Then the next person they hired-a kid from a no-name liberal arts college-got torn apart by Ethan for a full afternoon.
“Is this a damn garbage dump now? Anyone off the street can just stroll in? If you can’t even handle hiring, maybe you
should go!”
So much for fairness. Turns out, equality only applied to Zoey.
Just then, a message popped up from one of my girls:
“Boss, don’t stress-we’ve got your back!”
The flood of goofy reaction stickers and emojis made me smile for the first time all day. I was just about to tell them to
ease off a little when a ping echoed from the team chat.
Ethan had posted a disciplinary memo:
“Any employee caught slacking on their phones during work hours will have their pay halved, performance bonus revoked. Repeat offenders will be terminated immediately.”
I opened the attachment, scanned the list-and nearly laughed.
Everyone who had liked or commented on Zoey’s post? Totally untouched.
Everyone getting punished? My team.
My phone blew up with notifications.
“This is insane. He’s not punishing us-he’s targeting you!”
“Boss, ever thought about going independent?”
“Wherever you go, we’ll follow.”
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Their loyalty hit me like a gut punch. Ethan knew me too well after seven years of marriage. He knew I protected my people. Loyalty meant everything to me.
Which was exactly why, every time I upset him, he punished my team instead. And I’d let him. Again and again.
Not anymore.
I pulled out my phone and dialed.
The voice on the other end picked up instantly, excited.
“Director Rivers! You’ve finally hanged your mind? We’d be thrilled to have you!”
“I have one condition,” I said.
“Name it. Hell, name ten. We’ll make it happen.”
“I’m bringing my entire team.”
“Even better!” he exclaimed. “I’ll draft the contracts right now. Everyone gets double-no, triple what they’re making now- salary, commissions, everything!”
We’d always been the top-performing team in the company, but Ethan used them as leverage to control me.
That stopped today.
Once everything was settled, I finally stepped up to the counter.
I handed over the divorce papers.
Seven years ago, when we were still deeply in love, we had written a “just in case” clause into our prenup-either of us
could walk away if the love ever died.
Back then, we laughed about it, confident we’d never need it.
But here we were.
“Ma’am,” the clerk said gently, “we need confirmation that the relationship is irreparably broken before we can proceed.”
I sighed and called Ethan
He declined. Again. And again.
Ten minutes dragged by. The couples behind me looked irritated. Even the staff were starting to look tired.
I had no choice.
I pulled up Zoey’s Instagram again. Sure enough, there was Ethan-in her kitchen, wearing a ridiculous apron, clumsily
trying to cook.
I showed the clerk the luxury gifts he’d showered her with, photo after photo.
The clerk gave me a sympathetic smile.
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“You can come pick up your divorce decree tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, stepped outside, the weight lifting just a little.
That’s when Ethan finally decided to call.
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