Something inside me snapped. I smashed everything in the office, screaming, demanding to know why.
He didn't flinch. He simply held the secretary behind him, watching me unravel with cold detachment. When I was too exhausted to cry, he slid a ten-million-dollar emerald bracelet onto my wrist.
"Michelle, isn't this what wealthy families are like?" His voice was devoid of warmth. "I thought you understood the terms when you married me."
He looked down at me, eyes hard. "You've cut ties with your parents and abandoned your career. Other than staying by my side, where else can you go?"
"Wake up. Do your job as Mrs. Weiss. I'll compensate you properly."
After that, depression swallowed me whole. The world faded into silent gray.
His mistresses came and went; eventually, I lost count. The "apology gifts" piled up until they filled an entire room. I went from agonizing heartbreak to sleepless nights, until finally—numbness.
Just when I'd gathered the resolve to divorce him, disaster struck my father's company. My father, a proud man with a failing heart, regarded that business as his life. To save him, I accepted my mother-in-law's deal: three more years at John's side.