He Chose His Boss, I Chose Revenge

“If you don’t come back soon, someone’s going to steal your wife.”

The next day, at the company gala,

I wore a beautiful gown.

Everyone’s eyes turned toward me—

including Ryan’s.

Monica followed his gaze and met my eyes.

Jealousy flickered across her face as she sized up my dress.

She scoffed.

“Young women dressing like this, bare arms and legs—it’s disgraceful to the company image!”

I kept my expression calm. “Monica, this is professional attire.”

Her gaze turned venomous as she stepped closer.

“Professional? I think it shows where your mind is.”

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been doing here. What’s wrong, isn’t your husband enough for you? Now you’re seducing other male colleagues too?”

I frowned, confused.

I never even talked to the men at work.

But she fabricated accusations out of thin air.

“Stop pretending, Emily. I saw you straddling a male colleague the other day! What, isn’t Ryan enough? On the surface you look innocent, but behind his back, you’re nothing but a shameless flirt!”

Her words were sharp, vicious, and certain.

I felt insulted and raised my hand to push her away.

But Ryan slapped me across the face.

Pain exploded.

My ear rang as a handprint burned across my cheek.

He towered over me.

“You slut! No wonder you’ve been avoiding me lately—you’ve been getting your fill outside, haven’t you?”

Shock rattled me.

Just on her word alone, Ryan struck me.

I tried to explain, but he wouldn’t listen.

“You whore! I’m divorcing you!”

Monica, satisfied with her scheme, laughed in the shadows.

She patted Ryan’s back soothingly.

“There, there. I’ll help you vent your anger.”

She waved, and two burly security guards stepped forward.

They twisted my arms painfully behind my back.

Fear chilled me as I struggled in vain—

the difference in strength left me helpless.

Ignoring my cries and the horrified stares of guests, they dragged me into a side room.

I tried to escape, but Monica slammed the door shut.

In the darkness, her smile twisted.

“They say unfaithful women stink. Do you smell it?”

The guards smirked.

“Yeah, reeks.”

“Ugh, wouldn’t touch her even if she were free!”

Monica raised her stiletto and kicked me hard in the stomach.

“You hear that? Since they said it, I’ll help disinfect you.”

“Better brace yourself.”

Pain wracked my body as I curled up on the floor.

“Emily, you’d better endure it. I’m doing you a favor—keeping your filth from polluting the air.”

Monica’s vicious laughter filled the room.

She opened a bottle of bleach, the acrid, corrosive stench overwhelming the air.

I shuddered.

“Stop! If you dare touch me, my friend will expose your video with Ryan to the public!”

“And I’ve already told your husband, David. He’ll be here soon to deal with you.”