Long before I married Damian, I had already inherited the commercial empire my parents built. Back then, I wanted to evaluate one of our newer subsidiaries firsthand, so I entered the company under a low-level position. It was during a strategy meeting that I first met Damian.
He had drive. I could see that much. So I took him under my wing without making it obvious, feeding him my management experience piece by piece, mentoring him in ways he never recognized as mentoring. Behind the scenes, I had HR promote him step by step until he sat in the president's chair.
I never revealed who I really was. I didn't want to shatter his confidence.
Over time, he confessed his feelings. I said yes.
Not long after we got together, he proposed we split all expenses fifty-fifty. He said other men's wives were strong, independent women, and I shouldn't fall behind.
I agreed without hesitation. That arrangement had lasted until now.
What I never expected was that his own fifty-fifty rule would be the thing that exposed his betrayal.
Damian came home shortly after.
I didn't spare him a glance. My eyes stayed on my phone, typing out a reply to a client.
He noticed. His brow furrowed, and he stormed over.