Three years of marriage. Three years of destroying my health with alcohol. Three years of dragging the Henson Group from the brink of bankruptcy back to its throne as an industry leader.
I believed, with absolute certainty, that Jade loved me.
So when I first noticed Max Pruitt—the new intern—eyeing her with hungry intentions, I didn't hesitate. I staked my claim.
Jade had just chuckled, brushing it off. "You love being jealous, don't you, Andrew?"
But she didn't draw a line. Instead, she let him linger. Let herself tangle further in his orbit.
My jealousy festered into madness. I threw tantrums, eroding her patience until she finally snapped. One cold sentence before she walked out: "I'm taking Max to the Zhou Group to negotiate the deal. Think about your behavior while I'm gone."
This time, I didn't scream. Didn't beg. Didn't grab her arm and force her to say she loved me.
Instead, I went straight to Max Pruitt.
"The Henson Group doesn't welcome you." My voice came out flat. Dead. "Write your resignation letter. Now."
Max stood before me, face pale. He looked like a college student who hadn't yet shed his naive, bookish air. Yet he met my gaze with surprising stubbornness.