My husband has a female director who’s not just highly capable, but also incredibly devoted. From her early twenties to her thirties, she stood by Julian Hayes’ side, helping him conquer the business world. And she’s still unmarried. Meanwhile, I stepped back years ago to focus on our daughter’s education, choosing to stay out of his business entirely. My friend was outraged: “Celeste Miller acts like she’s the lady of the house, the main woman! How can you just sit there, unbothered?” I just smiled. “What’s there to be afraid of?” It’s just a low-cost form of exploitation. There’s a term for it online that hits the nail on the head. It’s called—a loyalty acquisition strategy. I had just finished dinner at home with my daughter when Marcus Sterling was on a corporate cruise with his team. My best friend, Megan’s, SnapChat notifications started buzzing relentlessly. Over a dozen photos flooded in. Her call followed immediately, and I could hear the dull thump of waves against the boat through the phone. Her voice was laced with anger: “Audrey, why didn’t you come to the retreat?” “That Chloe, she’s practically glued to Marcus!” Megan’s husband was a business partner of Marcus’s company, and this retreat was co-organized by both. As for the photos… I had already seen them on Chloe’s Ins Story. One was particularly glaring. On the deck, with the vast sky and sea as a backdrop. Chloe wore a sheer, bright yellow bikini, minimal fabric perfectly highlighting her proudly flaunted curves. She clung tightly to Marcus’s arm, while he had an arm around her waist, their skin pressed together. She raised a champagne glass, smiling brightly and confidently. In almost every photo, she and Marcus were front and center. Her posture screamed ‘lady of the house.’ She hadn’t even bothered to set her SnapChat story to a private group or ‘visible to me only.’ So, the comments section, filled with a chorus of compliments and blessings, was also visible to me. Yet, beneath these almost provocative, brazen photos, she selectively replied to a few comments like “future Mrs. Sterling!” and “Couple goals!” with a transparent attempt to deflect: “Oh, don’t say that!” “Audrey might get upset.” They were out there enjoying the sea breeze and champagne, while I was here. Our nanny had taken time off. Leaving me to handle various chores myself. I was peeling an orange for my daughter, Lily, after dinner, and a splash of juice seeped into my nail beds, leaving a crisp, tart sting. At the same time. A new message from Chloe popped up on my screen.
She sent two photos. One was an intimate shot, the other a screenshot of the comments section on her Ins Story. She clearly desperately wanted me to see them, yet feigned an explanation: “Audrey, the sea breeze was too strong, Marcus just helped me to steady myself, don’t overthink it!” Seeing the photos, Marcus also messaged me with the same excuse. I smiled, replying: “No worries, stay safe.” I put an orange segment to my mouth, my voice even as I replied to Megan: “Until Lily goes to college, I won’t get involved in company matters, not even a bit.” She shrieked in protest on my behalf: “Not involved? She’s practically acting like the lady of the house already!” “I remember she used to be just your assistant.” “She’s clearly getting way too close to your husband, and you’re just going to sit there?” She had just returned to the country, so she wasn’t fully aware of everything. For instance, Chloe and Marcus’s relationship had been going on for over ten years. I let out a soft laugh. Megan was exasperated with me. “You’re laughing? She doesn’t even see you! Audrey Montgomery!” She wasn’t wrong. Chloe’s attitude toward me had followed a clear, discernible trajectory. From the initial reverence she showed when she joined the company as my assistant. To her tentative assumption of my work when I went home during my pregnancy. Then, to an air of equality after she and Marcus successfully completed several major projects. Finally, during my pregnancy, my dad passed away, and Marcus took full control. She began to treat me with an unconcealed, victor-like disregard. I wiped my hands, placed the phone on the kitchen counter, and continued slicing apples for a fruit platter. “Megan, tell me, what’s the most efficient, lowest-cost reward for a loyal, exceptionally capable subordinate?” “A promotion? A raise? Shares?” “None of those,” I said softly. “It’s to show them favoritism, to make them feel special, so they willingly dedicate everything to you, and still believe they’re getting the better deal.” The other end of the line fell silent. I slowly wiped my hands clean, walked to Lily’s study to give her the fruit as she did her homework, then closed the door and continued: “All of this, I tacitly allowed.” “Because from a corporate management perspective, it’s the lowest-cost way to control subordinates.” “Only, Marcus always thought…” “He was the one in control.”
I never imagined I’d marry Marcus Sterling. No particular reason, just simply didn’t dare to. When we were teenagers, we attended the same international high school. But the financial disparity between our families was immense. I still remember the Sterling estate at its peak. In a prestigious area of the city, the private road leading up to their mansion alone took a full eight minutes to drive, and their gardens were easily ten times the size of ours, complete with a dedicated enclosure for blue peacocks. High-profile guests and dignitaries were constantly coming and going. My parents had to pull strings through multiple connections just to get an invitation to a Sterling family gala. Marcus was so dazzling, and I was merely a backdrop in his circle of friends. Yet, prosperity inevitably leads to decline. That year, during my sophomore year, a major financial scandal hit, and regulators launched a sweeping crackdown on related industries. Overnight, the Sterling family’s properties and funds were frozen, and Mr. Sterling Sr. was imprisoned for white-collar crimes. Former friends and relatives vanished like fair-weather birds. Soon after, Marcus’s mother also died of depression. Just when everyone was avoiding him like the plague. I sold my eighteenth birthday gift from my aunt—a limited-edition designer bag. I scraped together three hundred thousand dollars to cover his overseas tuition fees. He was astonished. I smiled and told him: “I applied to the same university as you.” “So, we’ll still be classmates.” The unspoken implication was that I could help him in the future. But teenage boys’ pride is sky-high. With red eyes and a stubborn chin, he said: “I’ll pay you back.” Subsequently, he cobbled together some other small loans, and managed to work part-time and study his way through university. Oh, and he didn’t even forget to date me during that time. The year we graduated, he actually managed to save up three hundred thousand dollars and repaid me, with interest. Unfortunately, after repaying the money, Marcus Sterling had nothing left. He knew he wanted to marry me. My parents, naturally, disagreed. But Marcus was very smart. Though his family had fallen from grace, the taste and insight from his early privileged life remained. He knew how to appreciate wine, play golf, was impeccably polite in daily life, and shrewdly decisive in business. He secured several major clients for my dad’s company through various business dealings and networking events. Later, my dad reluctantly agreed to our marriage but still refused to relinquish control. Even when he fell ill, company control remained firmly in my hands. He was like a shrewd patriarch, only willing to see Marcus as his most capable, yet utterly replaceable, employee. The turning point came when I became pregnant.
My father’s health rapidly deteriorated, and my uncles and aunts eyed the Montgomery family’s assets like vultures. I suffered from severe morning sickness and lacked energy, so I reluctantly began handing over core projects to Marcus. Marcus’s business acumen seemed innate. The projects he spearheaded brought unprecedented profit breakthroughs for the company. But the more outstanding he became, the more my father worried. He wanted a guarantee. A guarantee that Marcus could never shake the foundations of the Montgomery family. So, after our daughter, Lily, was born, Marcus proactively suggested that our daughter carry *my* family name, Montgomery – an unheard-of concession for a man in his position. This was the condition my father had initially set, for which he would exchange his blessing. I still remember Marcus’s words in the hospital, as he held our newborn daughter and spoke to me on the bed. His eyes held humiliation, ambition. Only the clarity of his youth was gone. His face pale, he said to me: “Audrey, I’ve done this much for you and the Montgomery family. Your father should be at ease now.” I understood that a man deprived of the right to pass on his own family name, to truly establish his lineage, would always seek to compensate elsewhere. More money, more women – these were his avenues for regaining what he felt he had lost. I gave him power, tacitly allowing him to cultivate his own loyalists. And Chloe, it was after that, that he personally promoted her from her assistant position. It wasn’t until my father passed away when Lily was seven years old. The moment my father closed his eyes, a certain balance was completely broken. Marcus’s era began. Or rather, what he *thought* was his era. These past few years, I retreated behind the scenes, ostensibly caring for my husband and daughter, but in reality, observing with a cold eye. I watched how Marcus drastically reformed the company, and how he step by step promoted Chloe to a high-ranking director position. Chloe was indeed capable. She was like a sharp, unwavering weapon, striking wherever Marcus directed, always achieving victory. She secured several key domestic and international projects for the company, was decisive at the negotiation table, and charming and persuasive in social settings. She was his most capable right-hand, his most understanding comrade, and his most intimate lover. Everyone in the company knew. Only I. Audrey Montgomery-Sterling, the mistress of the Montgomery family. Like a porcelain doll living in the past, enshrined at home, unheeded. Megan’s call merely peeled back the thin veneer of what was already an open secret. Over these years, every unusual fund flow, every abnormal personnel change in the company, arrived promptly in my private inbox each week, in the form of encrypted emails. I hung up the phone and glanced at Lily’s focused back in her study. Lily’s high school career was about to end. And that meant. Audrey Montgomery’s era was about to begin anew.
Soon after my daughter graduated high school, the company’s thirtieth anniversary celebration arrived. Having been a stay-at-home mom for many years, I had long been out of touch with company affairs. But I decided to attend the gala nonetheless. The moment Marcus and I stepped into the ballroom, I knew this evening was Chloe’s main stage. I wore a custom champagne gold gown, an elegantly reserved statement. Chloe, however, wore a midnight blue gown that perfectly echoed the color of Marcus’s tie. As if they were the meticulously matched couple. “Mr. Sterling, Mr. Miller and the others have been waiting for a while.” She familiarly handed Marcus a drink, practically ignoring my presence. He gently patted my hand in reassurance, took the glass, and hurriedly instructed: “You find a seat for a bit, I’m going to say hello.” Then he was led by Chloe into the swirling center of clinking glasses and chatter. I was left standing there. Before long, whispers like a tide surged around me, undisguised. “Is that Mr. Sterling’s wife? She just seems… completely outmatched by Director Chloe.” “Shhh! Keep it down. But honestly, look at Director Chloe and Mr. Sterling together, *that’s* what you call a perfect power couple, a strong alliance.” “Right, I heard she’s been a stay-at-home mom for ages. She knows Mr. Sterling likes Director Chloe but doesn’t dare make a scene.” “No kidding, Chloe practically built this empire alongside Marcus for at least fifteen of those years. If I were a man, I’d pick Chloe too!” I maintained a faint smile, pretending not to hear. A short while later, a young woman wearing an intern badge, holding a drink, with eyes full of fervent adoration, walked directly towards Chloe, but was blocked by a passing guest right in front of me. She impatiently turned sideways, and her gaze furrowed as it landed on me. “Excuse me, ma’am,” Her tone carried a hint of condescending scrutiny. “This is the main table area for VIP guests. To avoid disturbing Director Chloe and our distinguished guests, it’s best if unauthorized personnel don’t linger here.” After she spoke, she even pointed her chin towards Chloe, a blatant attempt to impress. Chloe glanced at the scene, her smile deepening, showing no intention of helping me out of the awkward situation. Everyone around us was waiting to see me embarrassed. Before I could speak, Marcus’s assistant rushed over, his voice grave: “Brittany, this is Mr. Sterling’s wife, Ms. Montgomery-Sterling.”
The intern’s face went ashen, and she apologized profusely. Marcus turned to look at me, signaling that he was aware and handling it. But if he hadn’t deliberately avoided family and marriage in interviews for the past decade, if he hadn’t deliberately enhanced Chloe’s presence in the company, why would I be treated with such disdain? He walked directly to the main table, pulled out the chair next to him, and motioned for me to sit down. Only then did I realize how bizarrely the main table seats were arranged. Marcus was at the head, and Chloe and I were seated on either side of him, forming a stable yet awkward arrangement. He calmly unbuttoned his jacket, and added, a little too quickly: “Don’t overthink it, Chloe always helps me navigate networking and takes the brunt of the social drinking, so she habitually sits beside me.” When it was time for the speeches. Chloe, as one of the company’s long-standing directors, stepped up first. She raised her glass to everyone, but her gaze was locked on Marcus’s face. “For the past decade, I’ve dedicated all my youth and passion to this company. The person I want to thank most is Mr. Sterling.” Her voice was slightly choked up, laced with boundless affection. “Thank you, for shielding me from the storms and for giving me boundless opportunities. All these years, the company has been my home, and Mr. Sterling, you are my family!” She heavily emphasized the last two words. All eyes, like searchlights, were simultaneously fixed on my face.
I finally looked up, met Chloe’s gaze, and smiled as I spoke: “Director Chloe, that was beautifully said. Marcus and I have always considered you family.” I paused, then my smile deepened as I changed the subject: “Just like our whole family loves Patches.” “After a while, you just grow fond of them, don’t you?” Chloe’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she asked curiously: “Patches? Which department is that from?” Marcus’s assistant quickly whispered: “Patches is Mr. Sterling and his wife’s Ragdoll cat.” The color drained from Chloe’s face instantly. I curved my lips and raised my glass, lightly clinking it against hers: “When we first picked it up, it was so skinny, rubbing against people for food.” “Now its fur is sleek, it’s plump, and occasionally it scratches the couch, acting like it owns the place.” The air seemed to freeze. The guests who had been whispering moments before now wore expressions of exquisite amusement, wanting to laugh but not daring to. Marcus suddenly turned his head, uncharacteristically lowering his voice and asking coldly: “Audrey, do you really have to humiliate her in this setting?” I leaned my head towards him, feigning an affectionate couple, and whispered slowly, word by word, into his ear: “You know, our daughter has graduated high school.” “Or has the glory of the past decade made you forget whose name the company bears? Is it Sterling? Or Montgomery?” I had never spoken harshly to him. This was the first time. He was shocked by my bluntness. For Lily to have a harmonious family environment, so as not to shatter her filtered image of her father. And to make Marcus truly believe my sincerity about returning to domestic life, so he would work harder. I had never punctured the illusion he had diligently built for himself over the past decade. Now, with a gentle poke. Marcus froze, his face turning pale as he asked: “You… what do you mean?” “Nothing, don’t be nervous!” I raised my voice. “I just wanted to use this occasion to announce that next week, I will be officially rejoining the company.” “At that time, I hope everyone present will give me their full support.”
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