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

But the moment he turned and saw me, he went rigid, as if startled out of his skin, his face blanching chalk-white.

“Vivian, you… Why are you here?” he stammered.

I’d already guessed his expression would look like he’d swallowed something foul.

Even so, I didn’t spare him. I thrust the surveillance clip in his face.

“Go on,” I said, voice cold. “Explain this. What exactly is going on? You said you were massaging yourself, so why was Yssa in your office, pressed in that close? And fine, say she was massaging you, since when does a massage wind you up like that?”

The scorn on my face needed no translation.

Color drained from Xavier’s cheeks, inch by inch. His hand trembled where it gripped the phone playing the footage.

“When did you install surveillance in my office? You’ve been spying on me?” he demanded, trying for indignation.

I let out a short, cold laugh.

“Didn’t you put it in yourself back then, to prove your loyalty and even show me?” I reminded him.

His eyes darted. His face went iron-blue.

Of course, Xavier remembered.

Three years ago, when I handed him this company, he’d sworn up and down, “I’ll be a good boy from now on, just your employee for life!”

“Oh? But you won’t be just an employee,” I’d teased him then. “You’ll have your own office. What if some young little thing tosses you an olive branch?”

He had laughed and wrapped me in his arms from behind. “Even if I have my own office, it’s fine, babe. You can watch me anytime at home.”

Back then, he’d bought the cameras himself and had them installed.

He’d downloaded the monitoring app to my phone so I could see him whenever I wanted.

But three years had passed. I had never once opened it, even though he had forgotten.

“Vivian, listen to me—” Xavier started.

I turned to leave, but he lunged forward and grabbed my arm.

“Yes, she was in my office today,” he blurted in a rush. “Yssa came to give me a quick shoulder rub. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to misunderstand—just a man and a woman alone, it might sound bad. But she didn’t mean anything by it. After yesterday’s uproar, she was afraid I’d fire her… She’s a fresh grad, just an intern. Young girls don’t know any better and make mistakes easily. I already promised not to fire her. It won’t happen again…”

I stared at his shifty eyes and almost laughed.

“Do you take me for blind?” I asked softly. “Did you think I didn’t just watch the two of you hugging and kissing?”

Whatever scaffolding he’d built in his head collapsed in an instant.

He had never imagined that, six months pregnant, I wouldn’t be at home resting, but downstairs, watching him at the office. He had never imagined that Yssa’s little jealous tantrum would yank his office secret out by the roots.

“Xavier, let’s divorce. As for the company, complete the handover as soon as possible. I’m giving you half a month. After those two weeks, you leave with nothing.” I spoke calmly, without a hint of emotion.

Then I turned, got into the car, and shut the door.

Behind me, I could hear him shouting, his voice raw and breaking, as he dropped to his knees on the pavement.

But the engine’s roar was loud. I couldn’t make out what he said, and I didn’t want to.

That night, I waited until nine-thirty. He still didn’t come home.

I looked up at the enormous wedding photo hanging on the wall.

For a long time, I believed it was a gift to have met Xavier, a man of such talent and determination.

Now, it just felt like a bitter joke.

He said he was occupied with a big project and had been working long hours, so I shouldn't wait for him and should go to bed early with the baby.

And I’d believed him.

Every day I’d lived in the comfortable delusion that he was fighting for the three of us. I never imagined he was “working overtime” at a female employee’s home.

So, from beginning to end, he’d only ever seen me as a stepping stone.

He liked them young, promising that once he seized real power in two years, he’d bring one home as his bride.

In a rush of heat, I snatched up the ashtray on the table and hurled it at the wedding portrait.

With a deafening crack, the glass shattered; the photo split into jagged quarters.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

“Are you Vivian Summers?” a calm voice asked from the other side. “We’re with the police. Someone has reported you for making threats and engaging in extortion. We’ll need you to come with us.”