Divorcing My Spineless Husband After His Family Humiliated Me,Now My CEO Revenge Goes Viral

But I was usually so swamped that my feet barely touched the ground. The housekeeper handled all the cooking at home—when would I ever have time to organize a dinner for sixty people?

I frowned slightly.

But it was New Year's Eve. Let it go.

The manager approached. "All the dishes have been served."

I looked around the table. "Please, everyone, dig in."

My mother-in-law didn't move. No one dared pick up their chopsticks.

I glanced at Howard, silently asking: Are we eating or not?

He stood with an ingratiating smile. "Mom, why don't you try the sea cucumber first..."

She poked at it with her chopsticks.

"What kind of sea cucumber is this? Sliced so thin it wouldn't even fill the gaps in my teeth."

"Shark fin? Sinful. I heard they hack the fins right off living sharks..."

"Pretty garnish, I suppose. Can you eat decorations?"

Every single dish failed to meet her standards.

She critiqued for a full thirty minutes before finally deigning to speak.

"Well. I suppose everyone can eat now."

People began to eat, but the atmosphere had turned suffocating.

I kept my head down, spooning soup into my mouth mechanically.

Then her gaze landed on me.

"Stella, your company must have made quite a bit this year?"

I gave a vague reply. "It's been decent."

"What's the point of making money?"

She sighed dramatically.

"For a woman, family is what matters most. Look at your sister-in-law—she doesn't work, but she keeps that household running like clockwork. And those two children? Raised beautifully."

Joyce smiled with practiced sweetness. "Mom, please, don't say that. It's just my duty..."

"I'm stating facts!"

My mother-in-law's voice rose sharply.

"A woman who can't bear children—what good is all the money in the world?"

The entire table went silent.

My grip tightened around my chopsticks.

"Mom!"

Howard shot to his feet, his laugh strained. "Let's just eat, shall we? What are you even saying?"

She let out a cold laugh.

"Three years of marriage and not a whisper from her womb. I can't even mention it?"

"I told you from the start—don't marry some career woman. But did you listen? The neighbor's daughter, Tessa Nolan, married into the next city over. She had her second child last year. Both boys!"

"We've... been focused on our careers. We're not ready for children yet."

Howard's voice wavered.

"Not ready?"

My mother-in-law laughed out loud.

"You think I'm senile? She can't have them!"

Whispers rippled around the table. Every pair of eyes fixed on my stomach.

I closed my eyes. Drew a slow breath.

Two years ago, Howard and I had gotten tested.

His sperm motility was under twenty percent.

The doctor had been blunt: natural conception was nearly impossible.

Howard had begged me to keep it quiet.

"I'm a man. I can't lose face like this."

"If Mom pushes about grandchildren, I'll handle it."

I had agreed.

So we told everyone we simply weren't ready for children yet.

But my mother-in-law had decided the fault was mine. And now she was publicly crucifying me for it.

I looked at Howard.

He kept his head down.

"Stella, just... bear with it. Mom's only venting."

My brow furrowed.

This was him "handling it"?

My mother-in-law picked up a peanut with her chopsticks and held it toward me.

"Stella, eat these peanuts."

"Even flowers can reproduce. But apparently, some people can't."

"Tell me—was your private life a little too active when you were young? Racked up too much bad karma to conceive now?"

The room went deathly still.

That single sentence ground my dignity and reputation into the dirt.

And finally, I understood.

From the moment she'd demanded I arrange this dinner, through every passive-aggressive jab since—