Part 3Her Sweetheart Beaten, Our Marriage Over

The guy was about to curse me out, but one look from me and he scurried away. I took a drag and immediately started coughing. This body was pathetically weak.

In the middle of my coughing fit, the group of smokers suddenly scattered.

I turned to see Evelyn standing there, her expression as frosty as ever.

“When did you learn to fight?” she asked.

I took another drag, blowing a smoke ring. “Just now.”

“Miles is the Vice President of this company.”

I stepped closer, until we were only a foot apart. “And? Does that make his slaps more valuable?”

She was silent for a few seconds. “Grandfather said you weren't to be bullied.”

Coming from her, the words were a bitter irony.

I smiled and blew a puff of smoke right in her face. Her expression immediately soured. “You…”

I cut her off. “So what the hell have you been doing for the past three years? Stress-testing me?”

Evelyn didn't rise to the bait. She waved the smoke away from her face, her eyes falling on my cheek. “There’s a first-aid kit in my office. Go take care of that.”

“Don’t need to,” I said, walking past her. “I’ll leave it as a reminder that this isn’t a place for human beings.”

“Cole.”

I stopped but didn’t turn around.

“Don’t cause any more trouble.”

I let out a short, sharp laugh and kept walking. “Tell that to Miles. And one more thing—the divorce papers will be on your desk tomorrow. It’s for the best. For both of us.”

I didn’t wait to see her reaction. Relief, probably.

I skipped the office and went straight to HR to request a resignation form.

The young woman at the desk looked at me like she’d seen a ghost, fumbling for what felt like an eternity before pulling a form from the bottom of a drawer.

“M-Mr. Evans,” she stammered, “this needs Ms. Stone’s signature…”

“Then get her to sign it.” I stuffed the form in my pocket. “Put me down for a personal day. I’m leaving.”

As I walked out, the two receptionists, who had been huddled over a phone, snapped to attention and went silent.

It seemed my reputation was preceding me. I shot them a grin. One of them fumbled her phone, nearly dropping it.

Felt good.

The elevator arrived from the underground garage. Inside stood Miles, flanked by two of his yes-men from the project department.

The look in Miles’s eyes was murderous.

I hesitated for a second, then, instead of leaving, I stepped right into the elevator with them.

The doors slid shut, and the air turned to ice.

“Cole,” Miles hissed, his voice tight with rage. “This isn’t over.”

I watched the floor numbers light up. “Yeah, you’re right about that.”

He blinked, then sneered. “You think acting tough for a day changes anything? Evelyn is only tolerating you because of her grandfather. Once that wears off, you’re nothing.”

The elevator reached the fifth floor. The doors opened to reveal a few people waiting. They took one look at the scene inside and wisely decided to wait for the next one.

The doors closed again.

“Mr. Miles,” I said, turning to face him. “Your ‘Star Vista Plaza’ project… the building material quotes are inflated by about thirty percent, wouldn’t you say?”

The color drained from his face.

“The supplier, ‘Apex Materials,’ is owned by your uncle,” I continued. “Last Wednesday night, you took him to the Gilded Canary club. Two bottles of Lafite, charged to the company’s expense account.”

I paused. “Oh, right. There were two girls that night, too. Also part of the ‘entertainment,’ I presume.”

The two cronies next to him had gone pale.

Miles’s lips trembled. “You… What the hell are you talking about?”

The elevator reached the ninth floor. I slammed my hand on the emergency stop button.

With a loud groan, the elevator jolted to a halt between floors.

“Are you insane?” Miles shrieked, his eyes wide with terror.

I didn’t answer. I just drove my foot into his stomach.

He grunted, clutching his gut as he crumpled to the floor.

His two goons made a move, but I pointed a finger at them. “You move an inch, and the evidence of your kickbacks will be in the ethics committee’s inbox by morning.”

They froze.

I grabbed a fistful of Miles’s hair, hauling him up from the floor, and drove my knee into his stomach. He gagged, tears and snot streaming down his face.

“Listen up,” I whispered, my mouth next to his ear. “I have five copies of all your dirty laundry. If you ever mess with me again, they will find their way to all the right people.”

His eyes were wide with terror.

I let him go, and he collapsed in a heap. “So from now on, you see me, you walk the other way. You say one more word to me, and I’ll drown you in a septic tank.”

I hit the button again, and the elevator resumed its ascent.

When the doors opened, a crowd of people was waiting. They all stared, mouths agape, at the scene inside.

I straightened my suit, stepped over the whimpering form of Miles, and walked out.

It was 9 PM when I got back to the villa.

To my surprise, Evelyn was sitting on the sofa, a laptop open in front of her, though she clearly wasn’t working.

This was new. In three years of marriage, we had perfected the art of avoiding each other. Me in the guest room, her in the master bedroom, our use of the common areas carefully staggered.

This was the first time she had ever waited up for me.

I kicked off my shoes and headed for the guest room.

“Cole.” She called my name, her voice stopping me in my tracks.

I turned. She closed the laptop, her gaze landing on my bruised cheek. “Did you put anything on that?”

“Don’t need to. I’ll live.”