Chapter 2
Scott had always thought the Sherman Group and the Wilson Group worked together because their businesses complemented each other. But now he realized Nicole was the one pulling the strings behind the scenes.
And now, she'd cut those ties without a second thought.
"Dig up everything on Nicole," Scott ordered, his voice low and dangerous.
Two hours later, Scott's secretary, hands trembling, set a thick dossier on his desk.
Scott leafed through the pages.
Nicole Wilson, twenty-five, held a PhD from Ellsworth Medical School, where she trained under Clay Smith, winner of the Sterling Medal.
She was the youngest featured expert in the International Neurosurgery Alliance—codename: "the Phantom."
With fourteen solo world-class brain surgeries to her name, all flawless successes, she stood as the only granddaughter of the Wilson Group's founder and its chosen successor.
Net worth: conservatively estimated at over 13 billion.
With every page, Scott's face grew paler.
The last page was a photo.
It was from last winter, at an international medical summit in Nesiria. Nicole stood on stage in her white coat, performing a live-streamed surgery demonstration broadcast worldwide.
The audience was packed with top medical experts from around the globe, and they all looked up to her with admiration.
And that day, Scott remembered it all too well; he had the driver escort Nicole out of the kitchen while she was cooking, just because Sophie had a fever.
He pointed right at her and said, "You can't even take care of someone. What was the point of marrying you?"
That night, Nicole sat alone in the bedroom, locking a stack of medical journals deep in the bottom drawer of her desk.
Scott had never opened that drawer.
If he had, he would've seen that every single cover featured his wife.
Scott closed his eyes, the vein at his temple pulsing.
His phone buzzed.
It was a text from Sophie: [Scott, I'm not feeling well today. Can you come keep me company?]
Scott stared at the screen for three seconds, then flipped the phone over. "Get the car ready."
"Where to?" the secretary asked.
"The Wilson Group."
On the sixty-eighth floor of the Wilson Group, inside the CEO's office, Nicole was in the middle of a meeting with her team.
They were hashing out plans for next quarter's overseas mergers and acquisitions.
Her secretary knocked and came in, looking uneasy. "Ms. Wilson, Scott Sherman is downstairs in the lobby. He says he wants to see you."
The room went quiet for a moment.
Everyone in the room knew Nicole had recently ended a three-year marriage with Scott from the Sherman Group.
In their eyes, Scott was nobody.
Any one of the Wilson Group's subsidiaries could swallow the Sherman Group whole.
Nicole didn't look up. She flipped to the next slide. "Let him wait in the lobby. Continue."
*****
Scott waited in the lobby for an hour and a half.
He was the CEO of the Sherman Group, one of Marlton's top ten business leaders, but here he was, stuck in the lobby, sitting on a couch like any other visitor.
Wilson Group employees kept sneaking glances at him, curiosity all over their faces. Some whispered behind their hands.
"Isn't that Mr. Sherman from the Sherman Group? Ms. Wilson's ex-husband?"
"I heard he totally ignored Ms. Wilson for three years, always hanging around other women."
"Talk about blind."
"He isn't even worthy of carrying Ms. Wilson's bags, running that tiny company of his."
Scott gripped the couch armrest, his knuckles turning white.
At last, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open.
Nicole stepped out, surrounded by a small entourage of assistants and bodyguards.
She wore a gray cashmere coat, her long hair softly curled over her shoulders, her makeup elegant and aloof.
Gone was the woman in an apron, scrubbing floors on her hands and knees at Scott's place. In her place stood someone entirely different.
Scott stood up, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Nicole."
"Call me Ms. Wilson," Nicole corrected him, her voice icy. "Mr. Sherman, we're divorced."
Scott froze.
She used to call him "Scott," her voice soft and careful, always trying to please him. Now she called him "Mr. Sherman."
Scott took a deep breath, humbling himself. "I'm here to discuss the partnership between the Wilson Group and the Sherman Group."
"There's nothing to discuss," Nicole cut him off, checking her watch. "The termination notice is already with your legal team. I've waived the penalty fee. Consider it my last bit of goodwill."
"Nicole," Scott took a step forward. "You know if those projects fall through, the Sherman Group—"
"Will have a hard time," Nicole cut in, lifting her eyes to his. Her look was terrifyingly serene. "I know. So what?"
Scott was speechless.