Betrayed by Scumbag Husband, l Returned for Revenge

“Allison, are you really sure you want a divorce? To marry that cripple? Back then, you had two marriage offers—one from Joaquin Davies, the rising star in finance, and the other from Bradley Jensen, a violent, disabled wreck. Marrying Joaquin was the most logical and beneficial choice for you. Are you really going to throw that away now?” my best friend asked.

My pen paused midsignature as I stared at the divorce papers in front of me. My hand trembled slightly. I let out a bitter smile.

Three years ago, I married Joaquin to pay off my family’s debt. But I quickly learned he had an obsessive cleanliness disorder. He refused to share a bed with me for three whole years—until the night his first love got married. That night, he touched me for the first and only time, venting all his frustration and aggression on me. After that, he never laid a finger on me again.

A week ago, I found out I was pregnant.

The very same day, I was hit by a cargo truck. Both my legs were crushed under its massive wheels.

While I lay on the brink of death in the operating room, hemorrhaging profusely, I called Joaquin ninety eight times.

But he didn’t answer even once.

All I got was a single voice message.

“I’m on a business trip. I’ll be back soon.”

When he did return and saw me just barely recovering, there wasn’t a single word of concern. No questions, no care. Only orders. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a livein maid.

That night, as I washed his tailored suit in icecold water, I found two flight tickets to Las Vegas tucked in the pocket—along with a family photo.

In the picture, my stepsister Cassidy was in Joaquin’s arms, smiling radiantly. They were each holding one of the twin boys, about seven years old.

Then I received a video, sent via an anonymous email. The voice in it was unmistakable—Joaquin’s.

“Brotherinlaw, do you think this will hurt my sister?”

“Your sister made mistakes first. I’ll find a way to make it up to her,” Joaquin replied indifferently,

“What about me? And the kids?”

“Don’t worry. The only heirs to my fortune will be my children with you.”

So this whole time, the people I trusted and loved most had been plotting behind my back...

I wiped away my tears and tossed his expensive suit into the dog’s bed.

Taking a deep breath, I made a call.

“Send the helicopter to pick me up in a week.”

I won’t allow anyone to trample me again.

I’ll make sure Joaquin learns who those twins really belong to.

—

I looked down at the divorce agreement again, the paper trembling slightly in my hands. Thinking back on the past three years, it all felt like a cruel joke.

To outsiders, I was Joaquin’s elegant and supportive wife. In reality, I was forced to endure his twisted personality while playing the role of his “perfect assistant.” No one knew that the secretary always by Joaquin’s side was actually his wife of three years.

One week ago, the doctor told me I was pregnant.

The moment I heard those words, tears streamed down my face.

To discover I was carrying a child on our wedding anniversary—it should have been the most beautiful gift.

I rushed out of the hospital and texted Joaquin. Before I could hit send, a truck slammed into me. I collapsed to the ground, and four massive wheels slowly crushed my legs.

The pain was unbearable. I blacked out immediately. When I woke up, I was in surgery. The doctor told me my legs had sustained complex fractures and needed immediate operation.

I couldn’t even think about the baby. I kept calling Joaquin, over and over, until I finally gave up and signed the surgical consent myself.

After the surgery, the doctor quietly informed me: the baby didn’t make it.

I clenched my fists, refusing to cry. The pain in my legs was nothing compared to the one spreading from my chest.

I had waited three long years for this child... and just like that, it was gone.

One week later, I was discharged from the hospital.

The moment I stepped into the house, I received an anonymous email—with a video.

My husband... had been cheating.

I barely had time to finish the footage when Joaquin walked in.

He strode in with long, powerful steps, his handsome face was shadowed with irritation.

“Why are there so many clothes piled up? My suit is custommade—it has to be handwashed. Go clean it. I’ve got a client meeting tomorrow.”

Without even glancing at me, he shoved the suit into my arms.

I was still using crutches. Caught off balance, I collapsed onto the icy floor, pain shooting up from my abdomen.

I tilted my head back, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. The overwhelming scent of gardenia from his body made me nauseous.

There were still faint red marks on his neck. Through the open collar, I could see the scratches trailing across his toned back.

He didn’t even bother to hide it anymore, did he?

I said nothing. I silently took the suit and turned to leave. It didn’t matter. I would be gone in seven days.

But then something fell out of his pocket—two Las Vegas flight tickets, and that photo.

Joaquin, with my stepsister. Arms wrapped around each other, and a pair of twin boys between them.

So while I was crushed under the wheels of a truck, he was on a luxury trip with Cassidy.

While I was fighting for my life in surgery, they were popping champagne.

While I was mourning the child I lost... they were living like a perfect happy family.

My child died without ever being known. And the people who betrayed me flaunted their happiness in my face.

I gritted my teeth and stuffed the suit into the dog’s bed.

Upstairs, I found Joaquin just stepping out of the shower.

I turned my back to him, pretending to tidy up. He suddenly wrapped his arms around me from behind, and whispered in my ear, “Arch your back. Stick out your ass.”

I struggled to escape his grip. He raised his brow and sighed.

“You’ve been working hard lately. From now on, let the maid handle the chores.”

“I brought you some perfume from my business trip. Want to try it?”

He casually pulled a bottle from his bag. The red marks on his back were even more obvious now, flushed from the hot water.

He shoved the perfume into my hand and pushed me onto the bed.

My injured leg hit the edge of the mattress. I cried out in pain, frowning as I tried to push him away.

He looked at me, puzzled.

“I... I’m not feeling well today,” I said, trying to steady my trembling voice.

He didn’t press the matter. Instead, he handed me a glass of milk.

For a moment, I almost believed he could play the role of a loving husband forever.

At 3 a.m., his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He got dressed quickly and left without a word.

Sometimes the quietest goodbyes were the real ones.

The next day, I reviewed every line of the divorce agreement and resignation letter one more time.

Suddenly, I heard Joaquin’s voice from behind me.

“Allison, what are you looking at?”

I took a deep breath and turned around, handing him the two documents. “Please sign here. These are—”

“You were told not to bring work home. Where’s your professionalism?” Joaquin’s voice was sharp, clearly annoyed. Still, he picked up the pen. Just as he was about to sign, his phone rang.

Without a second glance, he tossed the papers to the floor.

I knelt down, struggling to gather them. Just then, he turned around and kicked me hard in the lower abdomen.

I was knocked flat on my back.

Warm liquid trickled down the inside of my thighs. I curled into myself like a wounded shrimp, trembling from the pain.

His foot came down again—this time on my injured leg.

“How could you be so vicious?!”

The pain shot through my body like lightning. He squatted down in front of me and violently grabbed my chin.

“Tell me—what did you do with my children?”

I coughed, gasping under the pressure of his tightening grip. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. What children?”

“Stop pretending! My twins! You kidnapped them just because I took them out for a trip, didn’t you?!”

I shook my head desperately. “No... it wasn’t me. I swear, I don’t know anything...”

That was when he noticed the blood seeping from my leg, staining the floor beneath us. His eyes narrowed dangerously, like a serpent catching the scent of prey.

“A woman as malicious as you deserves punishment.”

Before I could react, he stuffed me into the trunk of his car.

After a long, jarring ride, he dragged me into a bullfighting arena and forced me into a white dress—now stained with fresh blood from my legs and between my thighs.

Smoke billowed across the arena. Two muscular bulls were released into the pit.

I couldn’t even stand properly. My legs throbbed with unbearable pain. I looked at Joaquin with pleading eyes.

“Where did you take my children?” he asked again, cold and detached, like a judge handing down a death sentence.

My body trembled uncontrollably from fear and agony. I stared at the man I had shared a bed with for a thousand nights.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I really don’t know...”

He gave a chilling laugh. “Maybe you're still not scared enough.”

With that, he shoved me straight into the bullring.

The bulls caught sight of the bright red blood on my dress and instantly grew agitated, charging toward me at terrifying speed.

I had no strength to dodge. Their hooves trampled me, over and over again.

From outside the fence, Joaquin watched me with a face of stone.

As one of the bulls raised its hoof high above me, ready to strike again, I closed my eyes, accepting my fate.

And in that moment, the memories of the past three years played like a film reel in my mind.

From the beginning, this was a marriage of convenience.

To save my family, both my stepsister Cassidy and I were given marriage contracts. I reminded myself on the day I married Joaquin that this was nothing more than a transaction.

But deals were never fair.

On our wedding night, he humiliated me brutally—because his heart belonged to a woman overseas, his first love. He married me not for love, but to expand his business empire.

So I played the roles he assigned me—his personal secretary, his livein maid.

But everything changed the day he learned his beloved first love was getting married. He got drunk and suddenly began to “pursue” me—sending 999 different gifts over 99 days, proposing over and over, lighting up the New York night sky with fireworks on my birthday.

And I let my guard down.

I fell for him.

And now, the price I’m paying was betrayal—and a man who treated my life like it’s worth nothing.

I once thought his first love's marriage meant his heart had finally moved on. I knew I could never have all his love, but I hoped we could still have an ordinary, peaceful life together.

But when did Cassidy start showing up so frequently in our lives?

From the beginning, she didn’t want to marry Bradley. She always ran to my home. She was there for nearly every major moment in my life with Joaquin. At first, I didn’t think much of it—this was a business marriage, after all.

But the truth was: they already had threeyearold twins together.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I remembered his last confession to me.

“Allison, the rest of my love in this lifetime belongs to you. It may not be much—but it’s all I have. And I’ll give it all to you.”

But when I opened my eyes again—he was glaring at me, eyes red with rage, telling me to die.

“Miss, you’ve just had a miscarriage and suffered severe trauma. It’s very likely... you may never be able to have children again.”

The doctor’s voice was soft, full of pity. But his words cut deeper than any scalpel.

I quietly wiped away my tears and turned to the dark window beside me.

I wouldn’t believe another lie.

I wouldn’t fall for another illusion.

Seven days from now, I will begin again.

When I returned home, the familiar scent of gardenia greeted me.

Cassidy was here.

“Brotherinlaw, I really wish the four of us could live together like a real family. But... Sister will be upset, won’t she? I don’t want her to be angry...”

Her voice was soft, sweet, and just fragile enough to stir a man’s desire to protect.

Of course, Joaquin fell right into it. He pulled her into his arms, his tall frame enveloping her as she sobbed delicately against his chest.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone hurt our children,” he murmured, looking down at her tenderly. “That includes you. If anyone tries to hurt you two, I’ll make them suffer even more.”

I pushed the door open and rolled inside.

“So throwing a woman with fractured legs into a bullfighting ring wasn’t enough punishment?”

Joaquin clearly hadn’t expected me to come back. His gaze flicked toward the wheelchair I was in, a fleeting look of guilt crossing his face.

I ignored both of them and started wheeling myself toward my room.

“Sis...” Cassidy called timidly, but I didn’t spare her a glance.

That was when Joaquin grabbed my arm.

“Allison, don’t you want to know how they got here?”

I met his eyes—eyes burning with blame—and answered flatly, “It has nothing to do with me.”

Just then, the twins started crying. They squirmed out of the housekeeper’s arms, visibly frightened.

Joaquin sighed, as if he had finally made a difficult decision.

“It’s because of you. Every time it gets dark, they cry themselves to sleep in fear. Cassidy’s claustrophobia has also relapsed.”

I looked up at him, my tone was calm and cold.

“So?”

His thick brows furrowed deeper. “You’re being too selfish. You need to apologize to them.”

Before I could even respond, Cassidy stepped between us.

“Brotherinlaw, please don’t fight because of me and the kids. I’ll talk to my sister. Go check on the children first.”

The moment he disappeared down the hallway with the twins, Cassidy’s expression twisted. Her sweet face contorted into something venomous.

“Dear sister, I suggest you step aside soon. Otherwise, a broken leg might just be the least of your problems.”

I narrowed my eyes. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

She feigned shock, covering her mouth dramatically. “Sis, what are you saying? I don’t understand.”

I turned away, unwilling to waste another word on her.

That’s when she suddenly let out a scream—and threw herself at me.

I instinctively shielded my injured leg. She missed me and crashed heavily to the floor on her own.

“Sister, please don’t be like this... I’m scared. I really love Joaquin, and he loves me...”

Her pitiful cries echoed through the house, just as Joaquin rushed back in.

With no hesitation, he kicked my wheelchair.

I fell hard on the floor.

Fresh blood seeped through my bandages as the stitches on my wound burst open again.

Joaquin didn’t care. He simply picked Cassidy up in his arms, glaring down at me with hatred.

“You really haven’t learned your lesson.”

Cassidy clung to his neck and sniffled.

“Brotherinlaw... I just wanted the emerald necklace. I thought it might help purify the kids’ energy field. I didn’t think she’d get so upset."

"Maybe she still loves you too much. I remember... that necklace, you made it for her yourself, didn’t you?”

Joaquin’s gaze shifted to the green gemstone around my neck. His jaw clenched.

“If I made it with my own hands, I can take it back with my own hands.”

He yanked it off me. The delicate lace thread snapped under the force, leaving it misshapen and torn.

I clutched my chest, struggling to breathe through the pain that struck like lightning through my heart.

That emerald had cost him eighty million at a royal auction. It was my birthstone—my socalled “guardian stone.” And the lace cord that held it? He had spent 88 hours weaving it by hand.

But none of that matters now.

Cassidy fell beside me, deliberately pressing the full weight of her body onto my injured leg.

Her tone was soft as she pleaded, “Sis, I'm begging you... just one energy cleansing for the kids. They’ve been so traumatized by what happened the other day...”

Her words were gentle—but her eyes glittered with cruelty.

Then, without warning, she drove her elbow straight into the exact spot where my bone was fractured.

I tried to push her away despite the searing pain, but the moment my hand touched her, Cassidy flung herself dramatically to the floor like a feather in the wind.

She collapsed at Joaquin’s feet, whimpering softly.

Joaquin instantly scooped her up into his arms and barked at me, “Was throwing you into the bullfighting ring not enough? You’re still this vicious?”

“It’s okay, Brotherinlaw,” Cassidy whispered tearfully, “Maybe Sis is just jealous that we have children of our own.”

Children.

That word shattered what little restraint I had left.

“Joaquin,” I said, my voice cold, “Do you even know the truth about those children?”

“Sister!” Cassidy interrupted, feigning heartbreak. “No matter what, the children are innocent! How can you be so cruel to those poor little ones?”

Before I could say another word, she pounced again—this time driving both her hands down hard onto my wounded leg.

Pain exploded through me. I was soaked in cold sweat, unable to even form a sound.

As she sobbed and dramatized her performance, the twins started crying too.

Joaquin's expression flickered with conflict—but in the end, he gathered all three of them into his arms, gently rocking them while whispering words of comfort.

“Waaaah! Bad Auntie! Bad Auntie!”

“Teacher said bad people must be punished!”

Joaquin waved his hand.

Two bodyguards stepped forward.

“Take the Madam to the kangaroo farm. Let her box with them.”

The guards moved like emotionless machines. Their hands were iron claws clamping down on my ankles. I was dragged out like a sack of meat and thrown straight into the reeking pen.

The stench of feces hit me instantly.

A mother kangaroo glared at me, bristling with hostility at the intruder.

I couldn’t even stand. My leg injuries were too severe. All I could do was crawl and dodge, barely avoiding her strikes.

But the blows came—hard and fast.

I lost consciousness before the pain could take everything.

—

When I woke up in the hospital, for a split second, I thought I had already died.

But pain—burning, suffocating pain—dragged me back to reality.

Unfortunately, I was still alive.

My entire body felt like it had been crushed, my ribs were shattered. Even breathing was excruciating.

I slowly turned my head—and saw Joaquin sitting next to my bed, typing on his laptop.

Sensing my movement, he looked up with what almost seemed like relief.

“Allison, you’re awake.”

“The doctor said you should drink more water.”

He carefully scooped a spoonful of water and brought it toward my lips.

I smelled gardenia on his skin—and the faint, unmistakable scent of fresh lipstick kisses on his neck.

I turned my face away.

He froze midmotion.

Then, without warning, he slammed the water cup and spoon down on the bedside table. Boiling water splashed across my face, burning my skin.

“Allison,” he growled, “Have I been too kind to you? Is that why you think you can get away with everything?”

“After everything you’ve done, I’ve been nothing but tolerant!”

I didn’t respond. I simply stared at the ceiling.

Four more days.

Then someone would come to take me away.

Seeing my indifference, he exploded.

“Cassidy even said she’s planning to return the emerald to you tomorrow. But someone like you—this venomous, remorseless woman—you’re no longer worthy of something so pure!”

I still said nothing.

My silence only fueled his fury. He grabbed my chin tightly, forcing my face toward him.

“What is this? Another one of your games? Playing hard to get? Or maybe you still don’t realize what unforgivable sins you’ve committed!”

Still, I said nothing.

That’s when his phone lit up on the nightstand. I tilted my gaze toward it.

He picked it up.

The moment he answered, his voice softened, his tone completely changing.

It was Cassidy.

I watched his back as he walked away, and all I felt was bitter irony.

He was the one who cheated.

He was the one who betrayed me, who broke me again and again—and yet he had the audacity to talk about my sins?

What a joke.

Was this truly how the world works? That having a sincere heart only leads to betrayal and pain?"

Three years ago, even a twisted ankle would have him rushing over to carry me like I was made of glass.

And now—with both my legs broken—he tossed me to the beasts, humiliated me, and not even flinch.

Even if I died right in front of him, I doubt it would matter as much as a frown from Cassidy.

...

Two days later, I was discharged from the hospital.

I began packing my things.

The gifts he'd given me, now faded and dusty, I stuffed silently into black garbage bags.

Then I found my handwritten letters.

All 999 love letters he had written for me, one for each day he claimed to love me. I had kept them all, treated them as sacred proof of our love.

But now?

They meant nothing.

I pulled out the Zippo lighter he had customengraved for me.

[Allison & Joaquin — Forever Together.]

I struck the flame and set everything ablaze.

The front gate swung open.

Joaquin walked in, carrying the twins and smiling as if nothing had happened.

Then he saw the roaring fire.

“Allison! What are you burning?!”

I tossed the last love letter into the flames and watched as the fire devoured the final word. Only then did I speak, voice light and indifferent.

“Nothing important—just some useless things.”

He stared at the burning papers, watching familiar handwriting curls and blacken in the heat. Something about it felt wrong to him, and he opened his mouth to ask.

But Cassidy tugged on his sleeve first. “Brotherinlaw, the children are getting sleepy.”

Joaquin cleared his throat awkwardly, his voice a little strained. “I plan to have the children stay in the nursery downstairs.”

“That nursery was for my baby!” The words burst from me before I could stop them—sharp and louder than I ever expected.

I looked down and saw my hand resting on my nowflat stomach.

Of course. That nursery was meant for my child.

“They are my children,” Joaquin said firmly, unmoved.

I scoffed and said nothing more. After tonight, none of this would have anything to do with me anyway.

He sighed and crouched beside me, lowering his voice. “Allison, if you’re willing, they can be your children too.”

Scoffing, I spat coldly, “I don’t want anything that comes with that kind of price.”

Behind us, Cassidy let out a soft, pitiful sob—just loud enough for the twins to start crying too. Joaquin immediately turned and rushed to comfort them.

I didn’t bother stopping him.

As soon as I closed my bedroom door, my phone buzzed with dozens of videos and photos—courtesy of Cassidy.

Every one of them was a record of her intimacy with Joaquin.

I scrolled through three years’ worth of passionate embraces, stolen kisses, hotel bookings. I thought I’d feel something—rage, heartbreak, nausea.

But no.

It was like watching a stranger’s drama unfold. Detached, numb, almost analytical.

I could even sense the fake joy Cassidy tried to display at times.

Then the barrage of text messages came next. She detailed every luxury Joaquin had spent on her.

The private ski chalet in Switzerland.

The penthouse apartment in Paris.

The seaside resort in Hawaii.

[Sis, did you like the perfume I sent? It’s been a while since someone gave you a gift, hasn’t it? That was a freebie from when your husband bought me new jewelry. I figured you’d appreciate it.]

[You thought marrying Joaquin made you better than me? I’m the mother of his children. To the world, you’re just the pathetic secretary who kept throwing herself at him.]

I turned off my screen and climbed into bed. Soon, none of this would matter anymore.

The room was dark when Joaquin returned.

He sat on the edge of the bed, watching me.

“Allison, you’ve crossed the line lately. That’s why I had to punish you a little. But if you just apologize to Cassidy and the kids, we can move on from this.”

He paused, then added, “Besides, isn’t your father’s company still waiting on funding from Davies Group?”

I let out a tired sigh. “What’s between us has nothing to do with business.”

In truth, that company was built by my mother—her blood, sweat, and tears. I couldn’t let her life’s work be threatened.

His eyes lit up at my words. He eagerly grabbed my hand.

“As long as you apologize, our two families can continue working together.”

Before I could answer, his phone lit up.

A new message from Cassidy.

I glanced at the screen.

It was a sultry video of her dressed in a tiny uniform skirt, performing a provocative pole dance.

I saw his body tense immediately.

He stood up in a rush, his voice husky with desire. “I’ve got something to handle. Think things over while I’m gone.”

And with that, he turned and left.

Three minutes later, I received another video from Cassidy.

On the screen, Joaquin was holding her in his arms.

Her long red nails trailed across his muscular back, leaving scratches that burned into my eyes like fresh wounds.

I blinked away the sting, but sleep dragged me under.

By morning, I was jolted awake by the overwhelming scent of gardenias.

Joaquin sat by the bed. When he saw me stir, he cleared his throat.

“Allison, just apologize to Cassidy and the kids. Then we can move on.”

I shook my head, saying nothing.

He glanced at me and sighed again. His expression was so absurd, I almost laughed out loud.

Why should I, the one who’s been hurt, apologize to the people who hurt me?

How could I apologize for something I didn’t even do?

When I stepped outside the room, I found Cassidy already seated at the dining table, directing the nanny to feed the twins.

“Sis, come join us. Brotherinlaw and I prepared your favorite breakfast,” she said sweetly, eyes flashing with ill intent.

I ignored her and turned to leave, but Joaquin grabbed my arm and pulled me to the table.

“Auntie! I want Auntie to feed me!”

“Auntie! Auntie!”

The twins suddenly began shouting. Joaquin laughed and set them on his lap before pushing them toward me.

“They like you. Come on, feed them.”

I stared at the bowl of mango puree in my hand, and my skin instantly prickled.

I’m allergic to mango.

But at that moment, I had no way out.

Forcing myself, I gave each child a spoonful.

They both spat it out immediately.

“I don’t want it! I want Auntie to eat it! Auntie eat it!”

Joaquin remained oddly patient. “Allison, just eat a little. They really like you.”

“I can’t eat it. I—”

“Boohoo! Auntie’s being mean again! Bad Auntie!”

Their cries cut me off. Joaquin’s face darkened.

“Allison, how much do you hate these kids? Why do you keep hurting them?”

“Exactly,” Cassidy chimed in sweetly. “They’re only doing this because they like you. You’ll scar them for life if you keep acting this way.”

The children wailed louder, and I snapped. “I can’t eat it! I’m allergic to mango!”

Cassidy’s voice slithered like a venomous snake. “Sis, please don’t raise your voice. You’ll frighten the kids. They’ve been through so much lately.”

The next second, Joaquin slammed his hand on the table, grabbed the bowl from me, and forced the mango puree into my mouth.

It choked me so badly that juice sprayed out my nose.

And then everything spun. I collapsed, retching violently.

My throat burned like it had been seared by fire.

My vision blurred, my breathing weakened, and just before I passed out, I saw Joaquin’s panicked expression flicker across my eyes.

“Water... Help... Help me...”

—

When I opened my eyes again, the house was empty.

It was the last day.

I packed my things and went to the office to hand in my resignation.

But as soon as I entered, I noticed the strange looks from my coworkers—sympathetic, uncomfortable glances.

Given how wrecked I looked, I was surprised they hadn’t mistaken me for a homeless lunatic.

“Could you help me get to the top floor?” I asked the front desk receptionist with a faint smile.

She hesitated for a moment, then gently advised, “Miss Allison... maybe it’s better if you come back tomorrow.”

I shook my head. There was no more time.

She sighed and escorted me to the elevator. Only when I reached the top floor did I realize a major investment conference was happening.

No wonder she was hesitant—she probably thought my appearance was inappropriate for such a formal event.

Before she left, she looked at me seriously. “Miss Allison, I think you’re an amazing woman. Maybe... you don’t need a man or marriage to be happy.”

I wasn’t sure why she said it, but I smiled and nodded.

She was right. A woman’s happiness shouldn’t be tied to a man or a marriage.

I made my way to the Davies Group’s CEO office, familiar with every step.

I was here to submit my resignation.

But as soon as I opened the door, I felt everyone’s eyes on me.

“Well, well. Isn’t it Secretary Flores? What’s with the getup today?”

“She can barely walk and she’s still throwing herself at President Davies. His charm must be something else.”

“Didn’t she drink 99 shots for him at that party once? Shouldn’t she at least get a title by now?”

Their mocking laughter buzzed in my ears like flies. And suddenly, a terrible sense of foreboding washed over me.

Joaquin stood in the center of the lobby, his expression dark and unreadable.

"Hahaha, looks like Secretary Flores still doesn’t know what’s going on," someone sneered.

As soon as the words fell, the massive LED screen on the wall lit up.

Photos of Joaquin and me began looping on the screen. Some appeared intimate, but most captured me desperately clinging to him—kneeling to tie his shoelaces, shielding him from alcohol at business dinners, walking out of hotels looking disheveled while still carefully carrying his suit jacket.

I glanced at Joaquin. He said nothing as he stared at the images.

Of course he wouldn’t. To outsiders, I’d always been the clingy secretary trying to sleep her way to the top. A scheming woman chasing after the CEO.

But what they didn’t know—what no one expected—was that the “scheming secretary” was actually his wife. And judging from Joaquin’s silence, he had no intention of setting the record straight.

Still, none of that mattered to me anymore.

I just wanted to finalize my resignation and leave.

But just as I turned to go, a crisp child’s voice sliced through the chaos.

“Daddy!”

Cassidy, dressed in an elegant Dior couture outfit, strolled out from the elevator, a gentle smile on her face. She was holding hands with a pair of identical twins.

The three of them walked lovingly toward Joaquin.

He looked at them, then at me. In the end, he reached out and scooped up the children.

"President Davies, aren't you going to explain?" someone asked, laughing coldly.

"If Secretary Flores is no longer yours, then don’t blame your brothers for not holding back.”

Joaquin took a deep breath, holding the twins in his arms. His voice was calm but final.

“I will always choose my family.”

With that, he walked away.

Cassidy shot a look toward a few greasy middleaged men nearby. Immediately, they surrounded me.

“Well, if it isn’t Secretary Flores. What happened to you?” sneered one bloated department manager, eyeing my wheelchair with a wicked grin.

“Always acting so pure and untouchable... Turns out you’re just trash behind closed doors,” chimed in a deputy general manager I’d rejected countless times before. His gaze slithered over my ruined legs and bruised face.

Their filthy words splashed over me like sewage.

“Look at her now. Pretending to be some chaste saint before—what a joke. She’s nothing but used goods.”

“Get away from me! Get away!” I screamed hoarsely, using every ounce of strength to fight them off.

One man reached out to touch my face. I jerked away, and my wheelchair tilted dangerously from the violent struggle. I could feel myself slipping. Only one thought raced through my mind—don’t let them touch me.

The moment before I fell, my hand instinctively reached into my pocket and brushed against my phone.

I didn’t even check the screen—I just shakily tapped the contact for Joaquin.

The call connected. His voice, tinged with impatience, came through.

“What is it?”

“Joaquin... help me... please... help me...” My voice trembled, broken by fear and desperation.

"Brotherinlaw, is my sister throwing another tantrum again?" Cassidy’s sweet voice chimed in the background.

Then Joaquin spoke again, this time lowering his voice.

“Don’t mind her. Let her make a scene if she wants. I’m spending time with the kids right now.”

He hung up.

And in that moment, my world shattered completely.

My last hope—snuffed out by the very man I had once trusted most.

I looked around at the predatory faces closing in, their eyes gleaming with malice and lust. Their gaze wrapped around me like venomous snakes.

“No! Get away from me! Let me go!” I screamed, thrashing with the last remnants of strength.

My vision blurred, and darkness pulsed at the edges. In my mind, only one thought remained.

Jump. Just jump.

—

Three minutes later, Joaquin’s phone rang again.

“President Davies! Something terrible has happened—Secretary Flores... she jumped from the building!”