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On our third wedding anniversary, I walked in on my husband, Desmond Kramer kissing his new secretary. When I confronted him, he just shrugged. "Relax, it's just a game. Don't take it so seriously." But to me, he was already tainted. I handed him the divorce papers calmly. "Let's divorce." Outside the city hall, he smirked. "Adira don't come crawling back. Without me, you'll never survive." He didn't know that just a few weeks earlier, my grandmother had given me her multinational company.