3 : ANGRY

Brandon pov

"You have a lunch meeting with Miss Savannah, followed by a meeting with Simon Cowell at the—"

Linda, my assistant, reads through my schedule as I step off the elevator.

The moment my employees see me, they scatter like roaches.

Some drop their conversations mid-sentence. Others walk faster, heads down, avoiding eye contact.

That's power.

I don't have to raise my voice. I don't even have to acknowledge them.

My presence alone is enough to send a message—I am not to be crossed.

But the moment I enter my office, my mood plummets.

Because lounging on my couch like he owns the place is none other than Jayson, my idiot of a brother.

"Don't you have a party to be at, as usual?" I deadpan.

Jayson smirks, arms behind his head. "Hello to you too, bro. I'm doing just fine, by the way especially since the last time you left me to rot in prison."

I roll my eyes. "You survived. Now get the hell out."

I walk over to my desk, open my laptop, and pull up today's reports.

Of course, Jayson doesn't take the hint.

"Who pissed you off this morning?" he muses, then suddenly snaps his fingers, eyes widening in mock realization.

"Ohhh, wait. I know! This has something to do with Miss Perfect, doesn't it?"

I freeze.

That woman.

Jayson grins like he just discovered the meaning of life.

"Jesus, I'm right!" He slaps my desk, laughing.

I clench my jaw, forcing my voice to stay even. "Shut up and get out. And her name is Alexia, got it?"

His smirk widens. "Ooooh, touchy. You sure you don't still have feelings for her?"

I shoot him a deadly glare.

"You know that voice of yours doesn't scare me, bro." He stretches like a lazy cat. "Anyway, Miss Perfect is trending."

I freeze again.

"Something about her accusing Queen Bee of sleeping with you."

That catches my attention.

Chloe.

I don't want to look up the video—but I want to know what she said.

Jayson watches me closely, waiting for a reaction.

I refuse to give him one. I return my focus to my laptop, pretending it doesn't bother me.

"That's none of my business," I say flatly. "And if that's the only reason you're here, get out."

Jayson tilts his head. "Chill, man. I didn't write the article. But I do know who did. Want their contact?"

I exhale sharply.

After dealing with Alexia's tantrum this morning, now I have to deal with this?

Did she seriously think I'd divorce her and let her walk away free after what she did?

She is sorely mistaken.

I will make her life a living hell.

Jayson snaps his fingers in front of my face. "Damn, that frown is ugly. Even the Grinch couldn't pull off that look."

"Get out, Jayson."

He laughs, unbothered.

"You two fought, didn't you?"

His smug tone tests my patience.

I swear, if I ever get convicted for murder, everyone will know why.

"I won't repeat myself." I shoot him a look. "If you don't want to find yourself penniless, leave."

That shuts him up.

Jayson knows I'm not joking.

He's lazy, spoiled, and completely dependent on my money. And that's the only thing that actually scares him.

"Okay, fine. I'm leaving." He stands up but pauses at the door, smirking.

"I'll find out what happened, anyway."

Then he's gone.

I swear, one day, I'm going to kill him.

I try to focus on work. I really do.

But my mind keeps drifting back to her.

I give up.

Grabbing my phone, I scroll through the news.

Not because I care about Alexia. I don't.

I'm just bored.

I don't even have to search her name.

She's already trending.

> BILLIONAIRE'S WIFE, ALEXIA GARCIA, LASHES OUT AT HEIRESS CHLOE HARPER WITH CHEATING ALLEGATIONS!

I clench my jaw.

This woman.

Can't she stay out of trouble for one second?

The headlines should annoy me.

They do.

But at the same time… they make me happy.

Knowing she's hurting.

Thinking I cheated on her.

Thinking I don't care.

That brings me satisfaction.

But then again…

Why didn't I just push through with it?

--

It happened on Saturday

I was working from home when Chloe showed up at the mansion.

She nagged me—demanding I kick out my wife.

As if I'd ever take orders from her.

When I ignored her, she changed tactics.

She stripped down to lingerie and jumped into my pool.

Then, of course, she sprained her damn leg.

I had two options:

Let her drown, or pull her out.

And since a floating corpse wouldn't exactly boost my company's stock value, I chose the latter.

I carried her to bed, about to leave, when she suddenly latched onto me.

She ran her hands over my chest, desperate, pathetic.

Then, as if the universe wanted to punish me, Alexia walked in.

I was shirtless. Chloe was practically naked.

And just to add to the fucking disaster, Chloe let out a loud, fake moan.

Alexia stormed out.

I should've felt satisfied.

I wanted her to feel betrayed.

But later that night, I heard her crying in our bedroom.

And for the first time in years, I almost told her the truth.

But I didn't.

Because the moment she left… she ran straight to him.

Ramon.

That bastard she keeps insisting is "just a friend."

Bullshit.

I saw the way he hugged her.

The way he touched what's mine.

I wanted to storm into his house and break his arms.

How dare he touch my wife?

Alexia is mine to break.

Mine to put back together.

Mine to shatter again.

But a work emergency forced me to leave before I could act on my fury.

Then this morning, she had the audacity to ask for a divorce.

So she could run to that douchebag.

Over my dead body.

We are far from done, and she has only seen the bare minimum of what I have planned.

She will pay for what she did five years ago.

And I will make damn sure she feels every bit of the pain she made me feel.