Chapter 4
About half an hour later, my phone rang again. It was my supervisor, Edmund Herring.
"David, there's a red folder under my desk. Grab it and take it over to Room 808 at the Star Hotel. Ms. Griffith needs it urgently."
I frowned. "I've still got model testing to do tonight…"
"It'll take twenty minutes, tops," he cut me off. "This is a major contract negotiation. It was supposed to be signed next week, but the client's flying abroad unexpectedly. It got moved up last-minute. Just go—everyone's waiting."
By the time I walked out of the office building with the folder in hand, it was already dark. The early autumn wind blew fallen leaves against my face, and I instinctively hunched my shoulders. The suit I was wearing was from our wedding three years ago—worn and outdated, the cuffs already fraying.
At the Star Hotel, I delivered the documents to Lynne. On my way back, as I turned a corner into a plush hallway carpeted wall to wall, I stopped dead in my tracks outside Room 888.
From inside the cracked door, a voice reached me—one I knew all too well.
Nadia.
"…He did a good job on the R&D plan," she was saying. But the tone—cold, commanding, utterly unfamiliar. Nothing like the gentle, soft-spoken wife I knew.
Something pulled me to the side, and I instinctively ducked behind a large decorative plant.
Peeking through the narrow opening, I saw her sitting at the head of the table, dressed in a crisp white suit I'd never seen before. Her long hair was tied back in a sleek bun, posture poised, demeanor sharp.
"We'll stick to the original bonus distribution," she said, tapping her finger against her wine glass. "As usual, his share goes to my Efila Bank account."
"And no more discussion. I've made up my mind." Her tone left no room for debate—cool, composed, in control.
Seated around her were GM Lynne, CFO Gloria, and… Foster.
So this was Foster's celebration dinner—the one that should've been mine.
But what really shook me was this: why was my wife sitting at the head of the table, issuing orders to the company's top executives? She was just an admin assistant—wasn't she? Or… was she?
"Nadia, you really are something," Lynne said with a wry smile, rubbing her temples.
"For three years, you had me block his promotions, reject his proposals… even this celebration, which was rightfully his, we're giving to someone else…"
"This isn't stealing anything," Nadia replied, calmly sipping her wine. "He'll get what he deserves—eventually. But right now, he needs this setback."
I stood frozen in place, mind racing. Were they really talking about me?
"But Ms. Reeves…" Foster said, voice shaking, "my mentor's AI architecture plan was truly incredible… the way he looked at me today—I could barely stand it…"
Ms. Reeves? My heart dropped. He called her Ms. Reeves? The truth hit me like a punch to the gut.
My wife, Nadia… was actually the president of our company. We dated for two years, married for three. I thought I knew her. I thought we shared everything. But now, it was like I'd been living with a stranger.
"There's no outsiders here—don't call me Ms. Reeves," she said with a small smile. "Just call me Nadia. And remember, this is for his own good. And mine too."
"My dad had it too easy his whole life—look how that turned out."
"But don't push him too far," Gloria said gently. "We all know how much David loves you. He's smart, capable… why not just tell him the truth sooner?"
"Exactly," Lynne chimed in. "You've had us docking his bonuses, tanking his performance reviews—and even when he tried to start his own company, you had me intercept his investor emails. Isn't that a little much?"
"I still don't get it," she added. "You're the heiress of the Garrison family, president of Wonder Group, and yet… you've put your own husband through hell."