My Boss Wanted My Husband Chapter 02
The next second, Victor told me the truth.
“I want your man. Help me get him, and that will be revenge on the mistress, won’t it?”
His words struck like lightning.
I stared at him, mouth half open.
“What? You… you want me to help you get my husband… into your bed?”
For a moment, I wondered if I had cried so hard I was hallucinating.
Or maybe my boss had taken too many melatonin gummies.
“Mr. Grant, are you okay?”
Victor did not look embarrassed at all.
Instead, he shifted straight into business-negotiation mode.
“I’m fine. I’m perfectly sober. And I’m a top.”
I fell silent.
That was a lot of information.
My brain was overheating.
Victor ignored my frozen expression and walked to the whiteboard. With practiced ease, he drew a mind map.
“Let’s analyze your current situation rationally.”
At the center of the diagram was Mark.
“First, your marriage. The mistress is five months pregnant, and the man is determined. You will get divorced. The only variables are timing and asset distribution.”
“Second, your finances. Even if the house is split evenly and each of you keeps one car, your monthly salary is thirty-two hundred dollars. After taxes, health insurance, and a two-thousand-dollar car payment, you have eighteen hundred left. Given the cost of living in this city, you can barely survive if you do not get seriously ill, buy new clothes, or engage in any recreational activity.”
The cold numbers and naked reality stabbed me straight in the heart.
I could practically see myself living on frozen pizza and trembling at the poverty line.
“So,” he concluded, “if you refuse my proposal, you face not only the collapse of your life as you know it, but possible unemployment. With my influence in this industry, making sure you cannot find a suitable job for a while would not be difficult. At that point, even your thirty-two-hundred-dollar survival base would be gone.”
I sucked in a breath.
That was a threat.
A blatant one.
“However,” he said, changing direction, “if you cooperate, we become allies. Our goals align. I get the person I want, and you regain your dignity.”
I interrupted him.
“Wait. Dignity? Boss, after all that, all I get is dignity?”
After his financial analysis, I had become brutally realistic.
Victor seemed to have expected the question.
“Of course not. Once this is done, I will give you one hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
“One hundred and fifty thousand?”
I grabbed the calculator on my desk with trembling fingers.
150,000 divided by 3,200 divided by 12.
Nearly four years of salary.
Paid in advance, basically.
Victor added more.
“In addition, I will have the best project director in the company mentor you personally. You will improve your professional skills as quickly as possible and learn the core work. That means even without the money, you will be able to live well on your own in the future.”
Dear God.
This was not kicking someone while she was down.
This was a pie falling from heaven.
A Michelin-starred pie.
He really did love my husband.
Enough to threaten and bribe me. Enough to personally design a husband-stealing strategy.
The scale in my heart tipped wildly.
My husband’s betrayal, Lily’s arrogance, my bleak future…
Compared with real money, real skills, and a strange but promising way out, none of that mattered.
If Mark could find a mistress, what was wrong with me introducing him to a powerful male lover?
It was perfectly reasonable.
It was practically a public service.
I was helping him unlock a new chapter of life.
“Mr. Grant,” I said solemnly, “from this day forward, I am your personal strategist. I will do everything in my power to clear the path and help you win him.”
Victor looked at my passionate expression and nodded slightly.
“Good. Then we have a deal.”