He Chose His Assistant — I Chose Divorce

Jeff's voice came through the phone again.

"As long as you come home now, apologize to Luna, and admit you were talking nonsense before, I'll give you another million."

He paused briefly before adding casually, "Consider it… nutritional expenses for your dad."

I spoke clearly into the receiver, enunciating every word.

"Jeff, that's called funeral expenses. And we still haven't settled the score for you reversing the ransom payment and getting my father killed."

"What nonsense are you talking about?!" His voice suddenly rose. "What do you mean, reversing the ransom? I only—"

Before he could finish, I cut him off.

"You only wanted to teach me a lesson? Or were you freeing up money to take pictures with your mistress? Jeff, you disgust me."

With a sharp beep, I hung up. This time, I permanently blocked his number.

At last, the world fell silent.

I didn't return to that cold, empty mansion. Instead, I took my father's ashes and went to the old house on the outskirts of the city.

It was the only thing my father had left behind—a shabby little apartment less than five hundred square feet.

But for the first time in days, I felt safe.

I placed my father's urn on top of an old cabinet. Beside it sat the only photograph we had together.

In the picture, my father smiled honestly and warmly while I sat on his shoulders holding a lollipop.

Back then, we had been poor. But we had been happy.

"Dad, from now on, it'll just be the two of us."

I spoke softly as tears splashed onto the dusty floorboards.

After cleaning the house, I called Benson.

"Draft the divorce agreement for me. I'm filing for divorce."

The moment I hung up, violent pounding suddenly erupted from outside the door.

"Carol! Open up!"

It was Jeff.

He had actually found this place.

"I know you're in there! Why are you hiding? You had the guts to hang up on me, but now you don't dare face me? Open the door! Or I'll have someone tear this stupid door down!"

"Mr. Ellison, trespassing is illegal."

My voice was icy.

Jeff seemed caught off guard by my attitude.

"Carol, don't push your luck. I came here to give you a chance. As long as you come back with me now, we can forget everything that happened before. I'll arrange the best nursing home for your father, hire the best caretakers—"

"Jeff."

I interrupted him, my voice sharp as frozen steel.

"Are you incapable of understanding human language? My father is dead. You got him killed. While you were busy taking pictures with that assistant of yours, the kidnappers beat him to death."

Dead silence fell outside the door.

After a long while, Jeff finally spoke again. His voice carried the faintest tremor—along with even greater disbelief.

"You… you're making up stories again? You'd even tell a lie like this just to gain sympathy? Carol, you really disappoint me."

Leaning against the door, I closed my eyes.

Disappoint him? Who exactly had disappointed whom?

"Get lost."

"Carol!"

"GET LOST!!!"

I slammed my foot hard against the door, the impact making Jeff stumble back with a startled curse.

"Take your hypocrisy and get out of my sight! If you don't leave right now, I'm calling the cops!"

Silence returned outside.

After a long moment, the sound of leather shoes echoed faintly through the hallway, growing farther and farther away.

Less than ten minutes later, my phone buzzed with a text message from an unknown number.

It was Jeff.

[Tomorrow night is the Ellison Corporation anniversary gala. You will attend as my wife. After it's over, I'll agree to the divorce.]