Chapter 8
688words
"I have some materials of my own to share."
Lane tried to stop me but was blocked by Gemma's security team.
Gemma lit a cigarette, crossed her arms, and snorted.
"Dead man walking."
After our divorce three years ago, Gemma had found me and offered money, for old times' sake.
I'd refused.
After the divorce, I was broke and sleepless. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw a bloody mass crying "mama," asking why I couldn't protect it.
Life was hell. Lane, to twist the knife, began parading Eva everywhere the day after our divorce.
At night, I'd stare at the ceiling until sunrise, praying for karma to find him.
Yet Silver Group's stock kept soaring.
I swallowed pills by the handful. My mirror showed a walking corpse while Lane appeared on TV, vibrant and successful.
I realized that given enough time, he would forget me entirely.
After nearly dying in a cheap rented room, I understood something.
Never count on heaven for justice.
Gemma's men wheeled in a screen displaying all of Lane's misdeeds over the years.
Videos and photos with countless women. His self-righteous lectures demanding my understanding, caught on hidden cameras. His threats using our child's remains to force my submission.
All his shameful acts hidden in darkness—I dragged them into the light.
Lane broke through the security line and smashed a chair into the screen.
"What the fuck are you doing, Ashley?!"
"You want money? Take it! You don't want to share me? Fine! I even gave you company shares!"
"What more do you want?!"
His bloodshot eyes were wild with confusion. I stared back coldly.
"I want a divorce."
"Everything you mentioned is the bare minimum a husband should do. Nothing worth bragging about."
"And I'm done with your disgusting behavior."
I set down the microphone. As I walked past, he grabbed my arm and hissed,
"Stop making a scene. You know you can't beat me."
"That money I gave you? I can take it back anytime. Want to make the same mistake twice?"
I yanked my arm free and slapped him hard across the face.
"Let's see about that this time."
This year of remarriage was for me.
Lane had forgotten I wasn't born to be his trophy wife.
I was Ashley Joseph, the girl who outranked him for three straight years.
With his money, I became a shadow investor in a rival company. While playing Eva's assistant, I used Silver Group's name to gather intel on major clients.
This year I was competing—not with Eva for a man, but with Lane for market share.
Three years ago when I left with nothing, it wasn't because he was smart—it was because I was stupid.
Now I had enough power to go toe-to-toe with him.
The livestream was my idea. After the press conference, Gemma helped me build momentum. Silver Group's stock plummeted, and board members rushed to sell their shares.
Lane thought I wanted shares as security, to make him bleed money.
But I wanted shares so I could more easily acquire others' shares when they panicked, taking over his company faster.
I'd prepared for the worst—even if Lane refused the shares, I'd just be delayed a few years.
Most of Lane's cash was tied up in projects, but the money he'd given me had multiplied through my investments.
My company was stealing his market share while I acquired stakes in his business.
Lane was swamped daily, facing surprise safety and tax inspections at every critical moment.
These were Gemma's doing. After the press conference, she'd taken Eva away.
"The tuition you owe me will be repaid with interest."
Gemma said cheaters—male or female—all got the same treatment from her.
"After I finish with her, I'll deal with him."
"Seeing you having so much fun, I thought I'd add my own touch."
One mistake led to business suspension. In less than six months, the company was in free fall—banks calling in loans, employees going unpaid.
That's when I, visibly pregnant, requested a meeting with Lane.
