He Cheated With His Intern, Then Found Out I’m CEO

“Don’t worry. If she can’t handle this properly, I’ll have her pack up and get out immediately,” Xavier said, his assurance firm, every word hammered into place.

At that, the corner of my mouth lifted.

Even after all this, he still wanted to keep that intern?

Just then, a faint cramp pinched my belly. My baby seemed to sense my mood and gave a gentle kick.

Steeling myself, I said evenly, “Xavier, I can let it go that she spread rumours about me. But she called the child in my belly a bastard.”

I drew a tighter breath and added, “You know me. I can’t tolerate being wronged. And I certainly won’t allow my child to be insulted for no reason.”

On his end, I heard him spring to his feet; the chair legs screeched across the floor with a harsh scrape.

“Babe, don’t be upset,” he said quickly. “It’s not worth it in your condition. Where are you? I’ll come to you right now.”

“No need,” I cut him off, my tone cool and controlled. “She’s a new intern—young and bound to make mistakes. Just make sure she understands that you’re my husband, not someone she can toy with.”

He agreed without hesitation. “Alright, Vivian. Anyone who bullies you or our child, I won’t let them off. I’ll have Finance settle things with the company and tell that intern to leave.”

“Just firing her isn’t enough,” I said, glancing at the wedding photo hanging on the wall, the frame glinting in the light.

“Xavier, I want you to handle this cleanly. Make that intern post a clarification, apologize to me across the entire internet, and fire her.”

I softened nothing as I finished, “I don’t want to see anything like this happen again.”

He swore he would take care of it.

However, about half an hour later, my phone lit up with a call from Ysabelle Lawson.

“Vivian, what the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped without preamble. “You damn bitch! You think you can have my husband fire me? Just because your family’s got a bit of filthy money? Don’t act like I don’t know who you are! My husband works for your company, but he’s not your family’s slave! If you keep pushing him, don’t blame me when I set the whole internet on you! That post earlier? That was just a warning. Next time, you better watch out, or your bastard child might not be so lucky…”

I waited until she ran out of steam.

Then, keeping my voice like ice, I said, “Do you really not know that phones have call recording? Yssa, I held my tongue because you’re an intern. I wasn’t going to stoop to your level. But now, that’s different. You’ve hurled baseless insults at me and my child. I can have a lawyer pursue your legal liability.”

She didn’t sound the least bit afraid.

If anything, her tone turned mocking.

“Oh, I’m so scared… Please, for an old woman like you, you’re awfully confident. My husband already said he’ll protect me no matter what! As for you, just wait for the mob to tear you apart.”

When the line went dead, my chest rose and fell, a slow ripple of breath.

It had been years since I’d encountered someone this outrageous.

I was just about to call Xavier to ask how things were progressing when, all at once, the work group chat exploded.

Yssa had started a barrage of messages. One after another, she posted long, flowery paragraphs. The gist, she claimed, was that the uproar online was all a misunderstanding.

[That day, I had just broken up with my boyfriend. He left me for another woman, and I was too emotional. That’s why I said what I said online. As for that candid photo of Vivian Summers, I didn’t even know it was you. I thought it was just some random picture I downloaded online… I’m really sorry for the harm this has caused you, Vivian.]