1 At his bachelor party, the notorious germaphobe sipped from his protégée’s glass. That’s when I knew he had feelings for her. I watched them, lost in their own world, talking effortlessly from projects to ambitions. I didn’t make a scene. That night, alone, I gave him an ultimatum: "Call off the wedding, or I’ll have her honors revoked." He disappeared all night. The next day, he returned, looking haunted. "The wedding is still on," he said. But at the ceremony, seeing me walk down the aisle, he froze. His mic’d voice echoed: "You’re not the bride I wanted. I regret this. I should never have let her go." He posted our divorce papers online, making me a laughingstock. Meanwhile, a photo of him kissing his protégée at the airport—still in his tux—went viral. Every choice has consequences. Ten minutes later, Bridget Corp’s stock dropped ten points. If he chose betrayal, he couldn’t blame me for pushing him to the brink. … My phone screen was still frozen on Fred Bridget’s social media post. The caption was a single, defiant line. 【This time, I choose love.】 The picture showed him in the suit I had hand-picked for him, passionately kissing Amy Lin at the airport. Below it, a flood of comments from our mutual friends poured in. 【Fred Bridget has some serious nerve. How is Zara Caldwell supposed to show her face now?】 【He dumps his bride at the altar and flies off to kiss his protégée at the airport? My girl Zara deserved so much better.】 【Has Fred lost his mind? Sacrificing the reputation of two powerful families for some girl.】 I finally looked away from the screen, my gaze falling on the wedding rings sitting on the table. The inside of each band was engraved with the initials of our names. Fred had designed them himself. He'd embedded powerful magnets within the bands, so that whenever the two rings came close, they would snap together. He had explained that because of his severe mysophobia, he might not always be able to show physical affection. The rings were meant to be proof of his love—a symbol that his heart would never resist my touch, and that he was determined to overcome his condition for me. I never pushed him. I was willing to respect his boundaries. But then, at his bachelor party, I saw him pick up Amy's glass and drink from it without a second thought, without the slightest hesitation. When she noticed me staring, Amy turned to me with a saccharine smile. "Zara, please don't get the wrong idea. We spend hours in meetings together, so we're just used to sharing drinks. You won't mind, will you?" Before I could answer, someone else linked their arm with mine. "Oh, Zara would never get upset over something so trivial. Don't underestimate her generosity." They called me by my first name, but their tone was a subtle poison, gracefully excluding me from their inner circle while putting me on a pedestal. If I showed any sign of displeasure, I would be the one who was insecure, the one who didn't trust Fred. But how could I not mind? When I brought it up with Fred that night, he was the picture of embarrassment, apologizing profusely and promising to be more careful next time. Looking back now, it was all a lie. He wanted the power and backing of the Caldwell family, but he also wanted to be with the woman he truly loved. He was trying to have it all. He was dreaming. My assistant knocked and entered. "Ms. Caldwell, Mr. Bridget Senior is on your private line. Should I put him through?" I glanced down at the blinking light on the console. "What's the damage?" "Down seven points. Nearly forty million in market value." Not enough. Not nearly enough to pay for the humiliation I’d endured. "I see," I said, my voice betraying no emotion. "Tell Mr. Bridget that if he can't control his own son, someone else will do it for him." "Understood. And should I have the PR department handle the online chatter?" "No need." I looked at the photo again, at the lovesick expression on Fred's face. "He chose love. Let's let everyone see if it was worth it." My assistant quietly left the room. I rose and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. The city lights were just beginning to flicker on, painting a glittering, cold silhouette against the darkening sky. My assistant must have relayed the message, because Fred's father didn't call back. But I hadn’t anticipated how forceful he would be with his son. A few moments later, my phone vibrated again. This time, it was Fred. The name that had once been pinned to the top of my contacts list flashed on the screen. I let it ring, a persistent, desperate sound that eventually died into silence. A second later, a text message appeared: 【Zara, you are shameless. Just because I chose Amy, you're going to destroy me? Are you really that jealous and vicious?】 Another one followed immediately. 【I know I hurt you, but you can't force feelings. If you really loved me, shouldn't you be willing to let me go for the sake of love? Why resort to such dirty tactics to force my hand? You've disappointed me more than I can say.】 I paused, a faint, cold smile touching my lips. He could have been honest with me weeks ago. But he didn't, not with the benefits of our union so close at hand. Who was it that was so germaphobic he had to wash his hands a dozen times if I so much as touched him, yet didn't mind Amy’s saliva? Who was it that had looked me in the eye and promised, with gentle resolve, that our wedding would proceed as planned, only to publicly abandon me and make me a laughingstock? He thought he was playing a brilliant game, manipulating two women at once. He had nailed me to a pillar of shame in the most public, humiliating way possible. And now he had the audacity to accuse me of not being able to "let go for love"? I sent a quick text to my assistant. 【Faster. I want it down ten points by the end of the night.】 After receiving her confirmation, I swiped away from the airport photo and watched the market value of the Bridget Corporation evaporate, bit by bit. I had faith that Fred’s father would not disappoint me. My phone lit up again. It was him. This time, his tone was considerably softer. 【Zara, can we please talk? This isn't good for anyone. My parents are going crazy. Just give me one more chance, please?】 【I know I embarrassed you today. I'll make it up to you. Punish me however you want, just please, leave my father out of this. He has nothing to do with it.】 My fingertips tapped against the screen. I replied. 【If you want to negotiate, you need to prove you're serious.】 A message came back almost instantly. 【Okay. I know what I have to do.】 I read the words, a flicker of unease stirring within me, but I quickly dismissed it. After finishing up at the office, I started the drive back to my villa. On the way, my best friend called, her voice frantic. "Where are you?" "Just left the office, heading home—" She cut me off. "Turn around! Go back to your office, now! Fred is on the roof of your building! He's telling everyone you're trying to drive him to suicide! He just posted about it, the reporters are probably already there. You need to do something, the entire narrative has turned against you!" My brow furrowed. So that's what he meant. He wasn't repentant at all. He was just plotting his next move against me. I forced myself to remain calm and opened his social media feed. The latest post was a screenshot of our text exchange. The caption read: 【It's all my fault. If my life can appease her anger and she'll stop tormenting my parents, then perhaps this is the best ending.】 I read it over and over, a cold laugh escaping my lips. Fred Bridget had truly abandoned all shame. I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat and sped back to the office. As expected, the street below was already swarming with police cars and emergency vehicles, a large inflatable cushion being set up on the pavement. I took the elevator straight to the top floor. Fred was standing on the very edge of the roof. His mother had fainted from the stress. His father was pleading with him, his voice strained. Amy was sobbing hysterically, repeating over and over that it was all her fault, that she should be the one to die. What a performance. And I, the villain, had just arrived. Standing at the edge of the crowd, I immediately spotted the people Fred had planted, live-streaming the entire spectacle to the world. A torrent of vitriol from online commenters flooded my phone. 【So if a man doesn't love you, you destroy his entire family? Is that all you know how to do, bully people with your power?】 【This is textbook sociopathic behavior. Anyone who doesn't worship you deserves to die?】 【Who do you think you are, some princess? If you can't have it, you destroy it? The world doesn't revolve around you!】 【Being rich and powerful gives you the right to do whatever you want? Just drop dead already!】 I was still reeling from the online abuse when Amy spotted me. She rushed over and dropped to her knees with a loud thud. "Zara, it's all my fault, every last bit of it! Fred just fell in love with me. You can't actually want him to die for it, can you?" My phone screen was still lit up. The online mob grew even more frenzied. "We're truly in love," she cried, "and there's nothing wrong with being in love! But if you're so unhappy that you'd drive him to his death, then let me be the one to pay the price!" Her words were chosen with surgical precision, painting a picture of me as a monster who would demand a man's life simply because my feelings were hurt. After her dramatic declaration, she leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper only I could hear. "Do you know what your greatest failure is, Zara?" I raised an eyebrow. So, she had another face after all. "You thought your love was so righteous, so noble. But the truth is, Fred never felt a thing for you. You try to use his family to control him, you think you hate him, but you can't let him go. In that, you've already lost. The Bridget stock will recover. You, on the other hand, will end up with a much uglier fate." With that, she suddenly threw herself backward, crying out in feigned shock. "Zara, are you trying to push me off? Is that it? If I die, will you finally leave Fred alone?" I looked at the two figures on the rooftop, the ones claiming I was driving them to their deaths. I walked toward them, step by step. "Fred Bridget," I said, my voice cutting through the drama. "You say I'm forcing you to die?" Fred looked at me, his eyes filled with a theatrical sorrow and disappointment. "Aren't you? You use your investments to control me, threatening my family's company whenever you're the slightest bit upset. My father is a respected man in this city, but he has to live every day bowing to your whims. You may be powerful, Zara, but we are human beings, not dogs on your leash!" Dogs on my leash? A good dog would never bite the hand that feeds it. The news of Fred’s attempted suicide exploded. Countless netizens organized a boycott of all Caldwell Industries products. Our stock took a nosedive. Several A-list celebrities who endorsed our brands moved to terminate their contracts. I managed to quash their attempts, but then they banded together with Amy, releasing online statements about my tyrannical and predatory business practices. Our PR department issued a rebuttal, but our account was hacked and shut down within five minutes. Amy then launched a public petition demanding my removal as CEO, claiming that a person like me, holding so much power, was like wielding a deadly weapon. The petition went viral, shared millions of times, even by some of my own employees. It was then that Fred and Amy arrived at my office. The smug satisfaction on his face was unmistakable. "Really, Zara, was all this necessary? Things have gotten so ugly. I doubt you'll be able to hold your position on the board much longer. Why don't you beg me? For old times' sake, I might even help you out." I leaned back in my executive chair, my voice calm. "Oh? And how would you do that?" He raised an eyebrow playfully. "I could produce a diagnosis of severe depression, proving my recent actions were the result of immense pressure, something beyond my control. We could say I've been in treatment this whole time. Amy, not having seen me, would have assumed you had me locked away, which would explain her 'over-the-top' online statements. Just like that, the problem is solved. No one gets hurt. Everyone's happy." Listening to his flawless, self-serving plan, I felt nothing but contempt. My eyes settled on Amy for a long moment before I spoke. "And what would this cost me?" Fred chuckled and clapped his hands together. "I knew you were a smart woman. This is so much easier. I want the ten points of stock that originally belonged to my family, liquidated and transferred to my account. And those two pieces you won at the auction last month—the jadeite heirloom and the Victorian-era royal tiara. Amy is quite fond of them." My blood ran cold. The jadeite was a family heirloom. The tiara was meant to be worn with my wedding dress. The sheer audacity of his demand was breathtaking. "Fred, you have an insatiable appetite. Six hundred million. Aren't you afraid you'll choke on it?" Amy shot me a startled look before quickly averting her gaze. Fred just shrugged. "That's my bottom line. Take it or leave it." As soon as he left my building, Fred started a live stream. His eyes were red-rimmed, his expression one of forced stoicism—a stark contrast to the cool arrogance he'd displayed in my office just moments before. "I'm sorry," he began, his voice hoarse and cracking. "I was too weak. I couldn't protect the woman I love, or my family." He took a shaky breath. "For all these years by her side, I've lived like a puppet. She used investments and our families' alliance to threaten me, until even the most basic freedom became a luxury. Who I saw, what I said—everything required her approval. She saw Amy as a threat and used all her power to crush her, nearly destroying her career. She thought that would be enough to break me." He paused, his knuckles white from clenching his fists. "Today, I gathered my courage and begged her. I begged her to let me go, to let Amy go, to let my family go. All I wanted was to keep one last shred of dignity. But as you all saw, she wouldn't even grant me that. She is using my family's future and Amy's career to punish me for daring to defy her. She will stop at nothing to get what she wants." The live chat erupted. 【This is terrifying. I had no idea the glamorous world of the elite was this dark! Stay strong, Fred!】 【Now I get why he left her at the altar. Who could live like that?】 【This is chilling. I actually thought Zara was the victim at first, but wow...】 【I support Fred! Coercion is a crime! Zara Caldwell owes everyone an explanation!】 The image of Fred fighting back tears was the perfect catalyst. Public opinion swung entirely to his side. The storm was reaching its peak. And I had all the evidence I needed. I had been waiting for this exact moment. The moment when the public opinion reached its zenith, so I could utterly demolish Fred Bridget’s carefully constructed façade and ensure he could never recover. In the boardroom, the faces of my top executives were grim. I laid out everything on the table: a list of every gift I'd ever bought him, our complete chat logs, and meticulously printed records of every investment and financial transaction between myself and the Bridget Corporation. "One man is not going to bring down Caldwell Industries," I said, surveying the room. "Why the long faces?" A senior board member, a man who had worked with my father, suddenly threw his pen on the table. "Zara, I've been with this company since your father's time. With all due respect, now is not the time for action. You need to take a temporary leave of absence. Wait for this to blow over, and then you can come back. We will appoint an interim replacement." Beneath the table, my hands clenched into fists. I looked around at the faces staring back at me. "Is that the consensus?" The head of Public Relations cleared her throat. "Ms. Caldwell, the evidence you've presented only proves you were in a relationship. It doesn't refute the claim that you used your power to coerce Mr. Bridget…" I cut her off with a short, sharp laugh. "How to refute it, how to spin it—isn't that your job?" He took a deep breath and removed the ID badge from around his neck. "Ms. Caldwell, if that's your attitude, then there's nothing more I can do. I'm a publicist, not a miracle worker. I can't clean up a mess this big." Several other department heads stood up. The head of Commerce, who was also Fred's cousin, looked at me with a heavy heart. "Ms. Caldwell, please, stop fighting a losing battle. You used to call me 'cousin.' After what you've done to my family, you can't possibly expect to walk away from this unscathed, can you? You're putting us all in an impossible position." I looked at him, the absurdity of it all hitting me. I was the one who had pushed for his promotion, against everyone's advice, all because of Fred. He, more than anyone, knew how I had treated Fred. And now, he was turning on me, slandering me without a shred of evidence. Looking at the faces before me, I understood. The Bridgets had sunk their claws deep into my company. "My dear niece," the old board member said softly, "don't be stubborn. With your father gone, it's my duty to look after you. Go home, rest for a while. The company will be fine in our hands." I said nothing. The silence in the room was so thick you could hear every breath. They were all waiting for me to announce my leave. Then, my desk phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and put it on speaker. Fred's voice filled the room. "So? Have you made up your mind, Ms. Caldwell? You're besieged from within and without. Zara, you have no other choice. Just accept it." Accept it? Fred, after all our years together, you still don't know me at all. When I decide to destroy someone, they don't get a second chance. And that includes you.
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