Chapter 2

When I heard that Wesley had deep feelings for me, Cora glared and sighed dramatically. She brought me a cup of tea and asked with fake sweetness, "Sister Mabel, how can you stand the boss making you wait so long? It's odd; whenever I visit him, no matter how swamped he is, he always finds time for me."

She flashed a smile that reminded me of my younger self. Reflecting on it, Wesley did treat Cora differently. He had numerous girlfriends, using them to get under my skin, bringing a new woman home each night to gauge my response.

Wesley never stuck with them for long, perhaps a couple of days, maybe a week or two; he quickly lost interest. Only with Cora did he spend time outside, eating out, going shopping, and watching films together. They appeared like a typical couple in love.

Wesley showered her with cash and attention.

I smiled at Cora and softly inquired, "Since you're so special to him, why does Wesley keep you as a secret lover? You should convince him to end our marriage and wed you instead."

Cora's expression shifted instantly, hissing angrily, "The unwanted one is the mistress; you're the unnecessary one! You're just clinging to the fact that you met Mr. Wesley a few years before me. But now you're aged and unattractive, how can you possibly compete with me?"

Her coworker, likely worried I'd lose my temper, hastily pulled her away. But it didn't bother me. I'd already decided not to let Wesley make me angry or upset. And certainly not to fight other women over him. He's not worth the trouble.

As Cora was yanked away, she stumbled and fell, shattering the cup she was holding and cutting her hand deeply, blood spilling everywhere. Wesley spotted Cora's injury through the conference room window. Everyone watched as he dropped his paperwork, burst through the door, and lifted her into his arms.

He snapped coldly, "Who the hell hurt her?"

The well-meaning coworker retreated, face white with terror. I scoffed, "I did it, and she had it coming."

Cora glowered at me, sobbing, "Yes, I deserve it! I fell for someone I shouldn't have, getting labeled a mistress, a paramour. But Mr. Wesley, as long as you care for me, I want to remain by your side forever; no one can come between us."

Her tears and ridiculous statements made her seem brave and resolute. Wesley was entertained, dabbing her tears away, soothing her, "There, there, you're crying like a little kitten."

He truly acted differently with her. I averted my gaze, too weary to watch, simply telling Wesley, "I want 500,000 for my birthday this year."

It's ironic. We're married but don't even have each other's phone numbers. Except when requesting money, I never contact him. Before tying the knot, we agreed he wanted me, and I wanted his wealth. Wesley always resented me for being a gold digger. But in the past, whenever I asked, regardless of the amount, he'd provide it, always exceeding my request, never less.