I accidentally discovered that my boyfriend of seven years was getting married—and the bride wasn’t me. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I just broke up with him. All because I overheard a conversation between my boyfriend and his best friend: “You’re marrying your mistress. Aren’t you afraid Lynn will do something drastic?” His tone was lazy and unconcerned: “I’ll give Lynn my love and give Charlotte my name. It’s perfectly fair. Lynn loves me so much—she won’t be able to leave me.” I immediately called Mr. Adrian Foster, the man my mother had introduced me to, whose family business had always been in competition with ours: “I’ve thought it over. I accept your proposal.” To this day, I still don’t know who Victor’s mistress was. Ridiculous, isn’t it? It wasn’t until the girl deliberately appeared in front of me that I belatedly realized Victor had been cheating on me for three months. “I’m Charlotte. I’m here to pick something up. Victor bought me some lingerie, but he accidentally put in the wrong address and it got sent to your office.” She picked up a package on my desk, opened it, and pulled out a set of black lace lingerie. “He has such good taste. He said I’d look absolutely stunning in this.” “Especially… when we use it at night.” Was she bragging to me about how active their sex life was? My emotions churned like a storm inside, but I kept my face calm as I looked at this young girl before me. She looked quite young—maybe eighteen or nineteen at most. “You’ve got what you came for. You can leave now.” I pushed the box toward her. I had died once before. I thought that after being reborn and knowing who the mistress was, I’d rush over and tear her face apart. But when I saw Charlotte wearing cheap lipstick and rough makeup, her face still so young and fresh, I suddenly didn’t want to bother with this little girl. I had more important things to do. Charlotte froze for a moment, clearly surprised that I could be so calm. Her expression soured. Her gaze swept around the room and suddenly landed on another open velvet jewelry box on my desk. Inside was a pearl necklace my mother had given me. She snatched up the necklace and put it around her neck, taunting me: “Victor gave me this too. Does it look good on me?” Blood rushed to my head. “That’s a necklace my mother gave me. Take it off!” “What do you mean ‘yours’? It’s mine now!” She stepped back, her hand protecting the necklace. I moved forward to grab it: “Give it back!” In our struggle, with a sharp “snap,” the necklace chain broke and pearls scattered across the floor. “My necklace!” I stared at the pearls scattered on the ground and slapped her across the face. “Get out!” She covered her stinging cheek, looked at the pearls on the floor, and glared at me with shock and fury: “You’ll pay for this!”
She really did go tell on me. When Victor stormed back, I was quickly packing up my most important belongings. “Lynn! Why did you hit her!” He grabbed my wrist. “She’s just a young girl—was that really necessary!” I shook off his hand and slapped him hard across the face. Victor was completely stunned, as if seeing me for the first time. “Are you crazy? You hit someone over a necklace?” “That was my necklace.” I looked at him coldly, continuing to stuff documents into a box. “And I hit a thief who took other people’s things.” “You!” He choked with anger, his face turning bright red. “Fine, even if the necklace was yours, you still can’t hit people! Charlotte’s face is swollen! I’m telling you, this isn’t over! That slap cost you a million dollars! Consider it compensation for her pain and suffering and medical expenses!” “Victor, we’re breaking up.” I zipped up my suitcase. “As for the money, just try taking it and see what happens.” “Breaking up? Did I agree to that?” He blocked the door, his tone irritated. “Lynn, stop being unreasonable, okay? Come back. Let’s talk this through properly!” “Talk about how you used my money to make your little mistress happy?” I looked up, my gaze sharp. His eyes flickered for a moment, a flash of embarrassment at being exposed, but it was quickly replaced by anger. I didn’t look at him again. I squeezed through the gap between him and the doorframe and left with my suitcase. The moment the elevator doors closed, I heard him furiously kicking the door and roaring: “If you leave, don’t come back!” I moved to a downtown apartment I’d prepared long ago. Just as I set down my suitcase, my phone rang. It was Adrian Foster. “I just finished a meeting.” His voice sounded steady and clear. “I saw your message. Are you sure you’ve thought this through? About the proposal our families discussed?” “Yes.” My answer came without hesitation. He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief on the other end, then spoke in a warm but firm voice: “Good. I’ll finish up the business here as quickly as possible and return home to help you with the family business transition and… our matter.” “Thank you.” I paused. “I appreciate it.” “Don’t say that.” His tone was serious. “Wait for me to come back.” Shortly after the call ended, my mobile banking notification chimed. I opened it—a transfer debit alert. [Your account ending in XXXX has debited $1,000,000.00.] I knew who it was. I immediately called Victor. “I transferred the money.” He answered quickly, his tone forceful. “You hit someone, you have to pay the price. This million dollars is compensation to buy Charlotte a new necklace. Lynn, we’re even now.” “Victor,” I said coldly, “that’s not your money. Transfer it back immediately.” “Your money?” He sneered. “We’ve been together this long and you’re being this petty with me? Stop making a fuss. Come back home and I’ll smooth things over with her about the necklace.” I heard Charlotte’s coquettish voice in the background: “Victor, honey, I’ve drawn the bath for you—” He immediately hung up. I sent him a message: “You have twenty-four hours. If you don’t return the money, I’ll file a lawsuit and make sure your misuse of my trust fund appears in legal notices on every single one of your investors’ desks.”
That night, I received a new friend request with the note “Charlotte.” I accepted it. She immediately sent a message: “Got the million. Thanks for being so generous, sis~ Try not to be so bitchy next time, okay?” Then another: “Still awake this late? Waiting for someone? Don’t bother. Victor’s with me. He says you’re boring.” I didn’t reply. I just took screenshots and saved them. The next day, I went directly to the upscale club Victor frequented. I needed to retrieve a spare access card I’d left at his place. When I reached the door of his usual private room, just as my hand touched the door handle, I heard laughter from inside. “Victor, you’re something else. Lynn’s been with you for seven years, and you just swipe a million of her money without blinking to spoil your new girl?” A slick male voice laughed. Victor’s lazy voice came through: “Her money is my money. Women, you know—when they throw tantrums, you just let them cool off. When she realizes she can’t live without me, she’ll naturally come back.” “So what’s your situation now? Keeping the main wife at home while playing around outside? Who are you actually marrying in two months?” another person asked. “Whoever’s more obedient, I’ll marry.” Victor’s tone carried a condescending amusement. “If Lynn knows what’s good for her and comes back behaving herself, the position is still hers. Charlotte’s young and fun—I’ll keep her around for entertainment for now.” Someone egged him on: “Impressive! But Lynn’s trust fund is a fat piece of meat. Don’t screw it up.” “I won’t.” Victor sounded supremely confident. “With that brain of hers, all the money she earns will eventually be mine anyway. She’s just being stubborn right now.” My blood nearly froze. Nausea rose in my throat. I didn’t push open the door. I turned and walked to the quiet end of the corridor and called him. “Victor,” my voice was cold as ice, “I’m telling you one last time. Return my million dollars by the end of today. Otherwise, I’ll not only file a lawsuit, but I’ll also leak to the financial media and all your clients that you’ve been misappropriating trust funds to support your mistress. I mean what I say.” The other end went silent instantly, then his voice came through, lowered and furious: “Lynn! You wouldn’t dare!” “Watch me.” I hung up. That evening, my mother called, her voice full of concern: “Victor came to the house this afternoon and said some things… What’s really going on with you two? Seven years together isn’t easy. You’re about to get married—don’t let small things ruin it…” “Mom,” I calmly interrupted her, “there’s no misunderstanding. He took a million dollars of my money to buy jewelry for his mistress. He and I are completely finished. I’ve already agreed to Adrian’s proposal. He’ll be back soon.” Just after I’d calmed my mother down, Adrian called. His voice carried a hint of barely perceptible urgency: “Lynn, I’ve expedited the transition here. I can be back as early as next week. Are you… are you all right?” “I’m fine.” Hearing his voice steadied me a bit. “I’ll wait for you to come back.”
I didn’t expect his “next week” to be so immediate. Two days later, he’d already handled the most critical matters and rushed back. The first thing he said when we met was: “Come on, let’s go to city hall.” I teased him: “I’m not someone who goes back on my word. I’m not going to run away.” He gripped my hand tightly, slowly interlacing our fingers. This usually mature man was happy as a child: “I’m afraid something might change if we wait.” He didn’t want to wait even a second longer. He took me to complete the marriage registration. When we received that legally binding marriage certificate, he finally relaxed completely. That night—our wedding night—Victor sent me a text: “Okay, I’m not angry anymore. Come back home. The house feels empty without you. I’m not used to it.” I didn’t respond. The day after our wedding, Adrian had to return overseas due to urgent business matters. Before he left, he gave me an unlimited black card and the keys to an estate in the western district. After moving, I went back to work as usual. What I didn’t expect was that Charlotte would be assigned to my project team as an intern. “Victor said this project is my responsibility now.” “Since we’re so ‘close,’ hand everything over.” She actually walked past me and went straight to my computer, reaching out to operate it. I blocked her: “That’s not your workstation.” “Victor said I can use whichever computer I want here.” She even pulled open my unlocked drawer and took out a core proposal draft I’d spent half a month on and just finalized, flipping through it carelessly. “What is this garbage?” She pursed her lips and actually picked up my pen from the desk and scribbled several black lines across key data on several pages. “I don’t think this works. It needs to be redone. Oh, but it’s my responsibility now anyway.” Especially when she saw I was calm and not losing it like she’d imagined, she kept trying to provoke me with words: “Victor and I are getting married soon. This company will be mine eventually. Are you going to hand things over or not?” “Is this the level of a VP?!” “No wonder Victor doesn’t want you—you work like a zombie, no potential at all!” I stared at her coldly: “Unlike you, who’s like a rat—only knows how to steal.” “If you’re not satisfied, you can request a transfer.” She angrily raised her hand to hit me, but I grabbed it mid-air. “If you don’t want the whole industry to know you got ahead by stealing trade secrets, go ahead and act out!” She angrily jerked her hand back and glared at me viciously. In the end, she seized control of the project and arrogantly ordered me: “Organize all the raw data and give it to me!” I reminded her: “This proposal involves the company’s core secrets. You need to sign confirming you’re taking over, and you’ll be fully responsible for any leaks going forward.” She looked at me disdainfully: “How pathetic! My husband has plenty of money and connections—I can do whatever I want! The only reason he doesn’t give you resources is because you don’t deserve them.” I said nothing, secretly gleeful about the day they’d both fall. While silently organizing the handover documents in the stairwell, she suddenly deliberately fell backward and cried out, accusing me: “Why did you push me! It’s not my fault Victor didn’t choose you!” “Why do women have to make things hard for each other!” Such terrible acting. Not only that, she pitifully called Victor to complain. Victor soon arrived to find Charlotte sitting on the floor crying. Without asking what happened, he accused me: “Lynn, when did you become so vicious!” “I’m so disappointed in you!” I found it laughable and let out a small laugh: “I’m very disappointed in you too.” Charlotte sobbed: “It hurts, it hurts so much…” Victor held her in his arms and cooed at her. Then he slapped me across the face, lecturing me: “Now you know what it feels like to be hit! Otherwise you’ll never learn your lesson!” This was the first time he’d hit me in public. I was stunned by the pain for a moment. Watching him carry Charlotte away, I took a deep breath. Back in my office, I calmly submitted my electronic resignation. Then I copied the resignation notice to all senior management.
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