My Boss Wanted My Husband Chapter 01
By the time my husband asked for a divorce, his mistress was already visibly pregnant.
That night, I stayed late at the office and cried over my doomed marriage like a siren with abandonment issues.
Somehow, my ugly sobbing caught the attention of our company’s untouchable CEO.
Victor Grant appeared in a perfectly tailored suit, carrying hot lobster ravioli and clam chowder from Harbor House. His eyes were softer than I had ever seen them.
It was past midnight. The office was empty. Just one man, one woman, and one spectacularly wrecked marriage.
For one reckless second, I thought, Fine. If my husband can cheat, maybe I should cheat too.
But after Victor handed me a tissue and circled the point for several painful minutes, I finally understood.
He was not interested in me.
He wanted my cheating husband.
My crying stopped instantly. My brain started spinning.
The thought of my husband with another woman made me sick to my stomach.
But my husband with another man?
Honestly, I might even buy front-row tickets.
…
The empty office echoed with the sound of me sobbing and sniffling.
Every time I thought about the divorce papers, my chest twisted with bitterness.
People always talked about the seven-year itch.
My husband had started itching in year five.
Yes. My husband, Mark Bennett, had found himself a mistress.
Her name was Lily Walker. She was pregnant, and she was clearly planning to use that baby bump as a fast pass into Mrs. Bennett status.
Mark was dead set on divorcing me and marrying her.
He even made it sound noble.
“I want to follow my true love,” he said. “And give my child a complete family.”
Please.
Had he not called me his true love when he married me?
Sure, the affection between us had grown thin as paper over the years.
But we were still an economic unit. I thought we could keep limping along for a few more years.
Unfortunately, the paper had torn.
My life plan of living comfortably off my husband had collapsed halfway through.
Before, two incomes came in every month. Life was sweet.
Now that the assets were about to be divided, how long could a woman with my outstanding talent for laziness survive?
Even a mountain of savings would be reduced to a puddle if I kept eating through it.
The thought made me burst into fresh tears.
As I cried, I silently cursed my heartless boss.
My career was already stuck in an awkward place.
Last week, the campaign proposal I submitted had been torn apart so thoroughly it felt like someone had dumped industrial-grade chili powder over my already fragile soul.
“Why are you crying in the middle of the night?”
A deep male voice, edged with impatience, sounded above me.
I jolted and looked up.
Through my tears, I saw my boss standing beside my desk.
In his hand was a takeout bag printed with the Harbor House logo.
My favorite lobster ravioli and clam chowder.
He set the bag on my desk.
“Eat something. Stop crying.”
I opened the bag while still hiccupping from tears. Steam and rich aroma rose together.
Naturally, that only made me cry harder.
As I took small spoonfuls of chowder, I sneaked glances at him.
Victor Grant was the founder of our company. Young, ruthless, and terrifyingly capable, he was famous in the industry as a cold-blooded tyrant.
He usually treated us like an evil stepfather with performance targets.
So what was going on today?
Not only had he not scolded me for ruining the office atmosphere, he had brought me dinner.
Could it be…
Was he trying to take advantage of my failed marriage and emotional weakness?
The thought startled even me.
But then I thought about it again.
Honestly, maybe that would not be the worst thing.
Mark could go out and find a mistress and turn me into a joke.
Why could I not give him a taste of his own medicine?
In my head, I had already started a revenge drama where Victor and I teamed up to crush Mark and his mistress until they begged on their knees.
Then Victor spoke and interrupted my imagination.
“That Lily. She’s the woman who stole your husband?”
I choked and nodded with grief.
“I heard she’s been walking all over you.”
The words were crude, but coming from him, they carried a strangely cold form of sympathy.
I nodded hard again.
“I see.” Victor tapped his long fingers slowly against the desk. “Then don’t you want to give her a bigger surprise?”
I nearly sprayed chowder across the desk.
What?
Had I heard him correctly?
My boss could not stand seeing me bullied and wanted to personally help me get revenge?
As long as there was revenge, I was in.
I put down my spoon, eyes wide and voice bright.
“Yes. Absolutely. Mr. Grant, we must give her the biggest surprise possible.”
“Extra-large. Family-sized. Enough to feed the whole table.”