Torin Payne, the vice president of the sales department, hurried in, handing me his phone. His expression was grim.

On the screen was the company’s group chat.

Zavier had tagged everyone, his message glaring back at me: [Sales Manager Tobias has been fired.]

So that was why they looked at me like that.

I leaned back in my chair, tilting my head slightly. A slow smirk crept onto my lips as I asked, "Tell me, brother, whose company is this?"

Torin slammed his fist on the desk, his voice filled with frustration. "This company was running just fine, but your wife turned it into a disaster. Everyone’s talking about how you’ve been cheated on and that Zavier is acting like he owns the place. If this keeps up, my family might just pull out our shares."

I leaned back, unfazed. "I can handle it. Get back to work."

Torin hesitated, then sighed. "If you're feeling down, let’s go out for a drink."

"Why should I punish myself with alcohol? I did nothing wrong. Relax, brother. I’ve got this under control. Besides, I already spoke with your dad on my way back."

Torin studied me for a moment before nodding. As he reached the door, he suddenly turned back. "By the way, Sylvie just got back from abroad. I still think you’d make a great brother-in-law."

I didn’t bother responding and went back to work.

By the time I finished my tasks, the sky had darkened. I had my driver take me home.

The moment I stepped inside, the rich aroma of food filled the air.

From the kitchen, Hyacinth’s cheerful voice rang out. "Honey? You’re home? I made all your favorite dishes. Go wash your hands."

I let out a slow, mocking chuckle.

At the entrance, a pair of men’s shoes sat neatly beside mine—Zavier’s.

Was this woman brain-dead?

She had the audacity to bring him here?

I changed my shoes and stepped inside, only to freeze at the sight before me.

Zavier stood in the kitchen, holding a piece of meat to Hyacinth’s lips. She smiled, radiant, savoring the so-called moment of intimacy.

The warmth in her eyes vanished the moment she spotted me.

"H-honey..."

Her voice trembled with panic. "Don’t misunderstand! I was just tasting the seasoning, and my hands were full, so I let Zavier help me."

“No need to explain."

My gaze swept over her—over them. Then I pulled out the divorce papers from my briefcase and placed them on the table.

"And by the way, you don’t need to call me 'husband' anymore."

Her breath hitched.