Chapter 4
I glanced at the clock. It was 7:30 AM.
The day was just getting started.
I headed back upstairs to deal with some leftover work.
I had quit so abruptly that I could only imagine the meltdown my old boss, Gabriel Watson, the CEO of Northbridge Technologies, was having.
Sure enough, my work DMs were a frantic stream of notifications.
[Damn, you actually quit?]
[Wait, you got married?]
[Who the hell is it? Which bastard poached you?]
[You're going to be a housewife? With your brain? Maxine, have you completely lost your mind?]
[Get back here right now, and I'll give you a raise!]
[I'm begging you! My company is dead in the water without you!]
Gabriel and I went way back to college. He came from money and had launched his own startup while we were still hitting the books.
We were good friends, so it felt natural to slide into a job at his company after graduation.
Frankly, had we not had a personal connection, I wouldn't have even considered his small firm. It wasn't on my radar at all.
I didn't mean to sound arrogant, but my academic record was truly exceptional. And it wasn't just theoretical knowledge. I had the real-world skills to back it up.
Starting in high school, I dove into every competition I could find, and that only intensified in college.
My portfolio was packed with tangible project results.
Job offers were piling up before I even had my diploma.
Outsiders just saw a great boss willing to pay a young woman a high salary.
Only Gabriel knew the truth: I was the one doing him the favor, making his company look good.
The moment I dropped the name "Richard Sinclair," the frantic messages stopped. He went dead silent.
He knew there was no counteroffer he could possibly make.
This wasn't just about money. It was about access to a world of resources and influence he couldn't even touch.
Marrying Richard was a strategic move. The money was nice, but I was playing a longer game.
I pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and began refining my strategic plan.
[Phase One: Divorce after one year.]
[Projected capital acquisition...]
[Key networking targets to cultivate...]
[Essential skills to master...]
Thousands of miles away, in the middle of a tense board meeting, Richard suddenly sneezed.
"Strange," he muttered, rubbing his nose. "Someone must be talking about me."
The kids' schools all provided lunch, which meant my afternoons were blessedly free. After a morning of productive scheming, I sat down to a gourmet meal prepared by the family's five-star chef.
I savored a bite and nodded in satisfaction. Food always tastes better when it's free.
I had no idea that when school let out, the real war was about to begin.
Sophia burst through the front door like a hurricane, slinging her backpack to the floor.
"You bitch!" she screamed. "This is all your fault! Jake said I looked disgusting, and Megan and her friends all laughed at me!"
Right behind her, Lucas slammed his lunchbox on the ground and exploded.
"You stupid woman! Your food sucks! Everyone knows you're just my stepmom! And that my real mom didn't want me, and now I'm stuck with you! Are you happy now?"
A full-blown tantrum from a spoiled kid is harder to wrangle than a greased pig, especially when no one has ever dared to try.
Lucas went on a rampage, smashing priceless antiques and flinging vases against the wall until the living room was a minefield of glittering shards.
I watched him indifferently. The second he paused to catch his breath, I turned to Layton.
"Layton, please tally the damages. Then go to his room and pack his things."
Lucas glared at me, yelling, "What are you doing?"
I strode forward and grabbed his arm firmly.
I declared, "You like to break things? Fine. You can go live somewhere else and break all the things you want."
"This is my house! You can't kick me out!" he shrieked in disbelief.
Smashing things was routine for him. His father was rich enough to replace everything, and the staff always cleaned up the mess.
He had never once thought it was a problem, and he certainly didn't believe this woman who had just walked through the door had any real power over him.
If anything, she was the one who was supposed to be kissing up to them.
He had it all figured out.
But this time was different.
I fixed him with a hard stare, leaving no room for him to doubt my words.
"Your house? Is your name on the deed?
"Let me make this clear for you. You are a child, living here under your father's roof.
"I am the lady of this house now.
"And considering the thousands of dollars in damages you just caused, I'd say you've officially overdrawn your allowance for parental support. So, you can get out."
I raised my voice, shouting, "Layton, are his bags packed?"
Layton appeared with a small suitcase, his hands trembling as he nodded.
"Yes, ma'am."
Just then, Alex hurried in from the driveway, saying, "Mrs. Sinclair, the car is ready."
I started pulling the still-shocked Lucas toward the open door.
"Good. Take him."
Lucas stared at the waiting car, the packed suitcase, and the obedient staff.
The reality of the situation finally hit him. Panic flared in his eyes, and he began to struggle wildly.
"Let go of me, you crazy bitch! I'm my dad's son! You're the outsider! You get out! You're the one who has to leave!"
He was just a child, after all. He could be as wild as he wanted, but he was still no match for a grown-up who was truly angry.
And I was being especially fierce, my grip bruising his arm.
He was bawling his eyes out, but there was no way I was letting him go.
"Layton, hold him down," I ordered.
Just then, Andrew walked in, home from school, taking in the chaotic scene at the door.
His mask of cool indifference finally cracked. He rushed forward and gave me a hard shove.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he yelled. "I'm telling Dad! You're abusing us!"