Evidence of Duke diverting my shares during the company's early days. Records of his backroom deals with key players over the years. Every gray-dollar transaction, documented down to the cent.
I'd kept it all as insurance. I never imagined I'd actually need to use it.
I pulled open the bottom drawer and tore the old share transfer agreements to shreds. Then I made a call.
An hour later, the information about Stacy arrived on my phone.
Duke had bought her a mansion overseas. Luxury cars. The works.
Nine years ago, they'd had a daughter together. Now Stacy was pregnant again—blood tests confirmed it would likely be a boy.
Over there, they called themselves husband and wife. The neighbors all addressed Stacy as "Mrs. Stephens."
Her social media was filled with hundreds of videos documenting their cozy little family life.
Duke—hair more silver than black now—beaming as he played with their child.
Duke teaching their daughter to write, his face split with joy.
Duke supporting a pregnant Stacy as they walked into an obstetrics clinic.
Every caption dripped with happiness. Daddy's teaching penmanship today! Family trip with our little one!
Ordinary photos. The kind any family might take.
They burned my eyes like acid.
So while I'd been pulling all-nighters reviewing proposals, haggling with executives over every fraction of a percentage point—my husband had been showering his mistress with my money.
And the girl I'd sponsored. The one I'd given $300,000 a year to fund her education. She'd repaid me by servicing my husband.
Even giving him the heirs she thought he deserved. One after another.
I forwarded everything to my private attorney with a single instruction:
"I want a divorce. Duke Stephens walks away with nothing and gets thrown out of the company."
It was late when we both arrived home.
Nearly sixty years old, both of us worn down by the day's chaos. Duke tossed his jacket aside and collapsed onto the sofa, rubbing his temples. Even exhausted, he maintained that cultured composure of his.
"Gertrude. You embarrassed yourself today. Storming off in front of all those guests."
I held back the bitterness, the rage churning in my stomach.
"What was I supposed to do? Stay and let everyone watch me be humiliated?"
"You've already moved your mistress into my life. Was there really any point continuing that anniversary farce?"
He frowned slightly, his tone almost bored.