I Chose Divorce After My Wife's Assistant Thrashed Me as A Gigolo

My wife had asked her assistant to accompany me to a restaurant for a business discussion. At the dinner table, the assistant deliberately made things difficult for me, encouraging the client to pressure me into drinking. I politely refused, citing my alcohol allergy and got up to leave. But before I could take a step, the assistant, Theo Emerson forcefully stopped me.

"Rudy, you're just a kept man living off your wife. If you're told to drink, you drink. What's with all the nonsense?"

I gave him a faint smile, tore up the contract on the spot and dialed my wife.

"I just heard from your assistant that the Harper Family doesn’t need me anymore. Is that true?"

——

Before she could respond, the assistant, Theo, snatched my phone away with one hand and sneered. "You think whining to Mrs. Harper will help you? Let me be clear—you’re drinking this wine tonight, whether you want to or not."

I met his gaze coldly. "And what if I don’t?"

"Well, well, seems like we have a rebel here. Looks like you’re about to set a new precedent—I’ve never been defied before."

The call was still connected and soon, my wife’s voice came through the speaker. "Rudy, stop being difficult, okay? Theo is only doing what’s best for the company. Just listen to him."

Her words amused me. Since when did I need an assistant telling me what to do in business negotiations? The client hadn’t even spoken yet, but Theo had already taken the initiative to offer a 20% profit cut. And even that wasn’t enough—Mr. Carson insisted I drink an entire bottle of liquor before he would sign the contract.

It was an absurd demand, especially considering that everyone in the company knew about my alcohol allergy. But beyond that, this contract itself was a disaster waiting to happen. I was about to question her when Theo abruptly hung up the phone. He grinned smugly.

"Did you hear that? Even your wife told you to listen to me. You still want to argue?"

I slowly lifted my head, my tone devoid of emotion. "Who said I have to listen to her?"

The moment those words left my mouth, Mr. Carson, the client, leaned back in his chair with a smirk.

"If I’m not mistaken, you’re just the Harper Family’s errand boy, right?" His gaze was openly mocking. "Honestly, some people just aren’t cut out for business. I asked you to drink and instead, you tore up the contract. If your wife finds out about this, she might just divorce you."

Hearing his words, I chuckled slightly. "Mr. Carson, you and Assistant Theo are working together, aren’t you?"

A skilled businessman must have keen insight and from the moment I walked in, I noticed the silent exchanges between them. Theo, who was supposed to be working for the benefit of the company, was instead colluding with the client to target me. This dinner wasn’t about business—it was an ambush.