Hey, It's Payback Time, Ex-Husband

Benjamin Forster

Everyone else is below me here in Los Angeles because I am on top of the city. That is something that can never be taken away from me. My name is Benjamin Forster, and I am the most skilled person in my field; but, the work I make is not always appealing to look at. A few years ago, when I took over the failing business that my father had left to me, I decided to give it my all in order to restore it to its former grandeur. It did. Additionally, it exceeded its previous glories by going above and beyond its expectations. Everything is my fault.

I try to go to the workplace as early as possible; the idea of having to spend another hour with that woman at home is beyond my comprehension. She always managed to get on my nerves by behaving as if she were as powerful and as intelligent as I am. She was insignificant. Simply said, all she was was a lovely face.

It was my idea to outfit the firm with marble columns, which gave off an air of quality. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the Forster Trading Corporate, it was a pleasure to watch people working hard. The company halls were lined with marble columns. I came dangerously close to breaking my back while lugging this failing business and bringing it back from the brink of death in order to ensure that those people would continue to have work.

We were responsible for the transportation of a wide variety of goods, including steel works, agricultural equipment, food, and other resources that different governments throughout the world utilize for their own nations. Because these helped the corporation bring in more money overall, the company also engaged in some illegal commercial activities known as black operations. These were nothing more than handguns and other types of weaponry that are currently in service with the armed forces of certain nations.

Back then, my father made a huge mistake, and since he was afraid that the responsibility would fall on me if the business failed, he gave it to his only son so that he could absolve himself of any responsibility for the fallout. Because I was so angry, I channeled my energy into rebuilding it and cutting him out of it completely by revealing what he had done.

Everyone found out who I am and what I am capable of doing right at that moment and location. It makes no difference to me whether they are made of blood if they are unsuccessful. Being ruthless, being calculated, and having a cold demeanor are the essential qualities that are required for a tycoon like myself to achieve my goals and become successful.

An intern greeted me with "Good morning, Mr. Forster" as I strolled through the magnificent hallways of my firm; nevertheless, I paid him no attention at all. Why should I lower myself to meet someone who isn't getting paid? They were just here because it was required for their schoolwork.

"Mr. Forster!" a lady yelled out as she raced up to me at this moment, and I stare at her. She flinched as I looked at her since it was usually a terrible idea to bother me so early in the morning because I have dismissed staff for less than that in the past.

She was out of breath as she talked to me, and I observed that she was vividly flushing as I stared at her. "These shipments to Poland require your signature before we can give them the go signal." She was probably in her early twenties, and she had brown hair that flowed in waves, both of which drew my attention to her. She was a young woman. It's possible that I'll end up sleeping with this one next. But before that, some business.

"Are those the steel beams that were sent out?" I question her in a blank manner, and she strongly nods, that a construction company had asked us to transport these to Poland for the usage of a customer, and because it was a large account, I agreed to do this. It is very likely that we could make a few of million dollars by doing so.

I take out my pen, reach inside the pocket on my chest, and sign the paper that she was holding. "Anything else?" I inquire more, and she responds by shaking her head. “Dismissed.” As soon as I started making my approach towards the office, the woman exited the building without wasting any time.

My secretary, who was also another lady with whom I had slept, was already at her desk so early. She greeted me by saying, "Mr. Forster, you will have a meeting with a possible customer after lunch." They are quite enthusiastic about conducting business with us.

This one was a woman with red hair and glasses; her freckles made me want her, and ultimately, I was successful in acquiring her. If there is enough time, I would like to sleep with her.

"Tell me about the encounter with that moronic councillor," you asked. I ask her, I hated dealing with politicians because they believe they're hotshot schemers, but in reality, they're simply dogs with a big bark but little bite. I ask her, I disliked dealing with politicians because they think they're hotshot schemers. It was a fun pleasure to see them wriggle and squirm as I bullied them into accepting my offers, but being in their presence made me feel uncomfortable and sticky.

The redhead looked over the stack of papers that had been placed in front of her desk, and then she just shook her head and said, "I don't believe that's on the agenda for today, sir."

“Great. My workplace is where you can find me. Please alert me when my presence is required. I tell her, "Only major developments," as I walk into my office, which is my own private area in which I have complete freedom to do whatever the heck I want. Who cares if I had sex with many ladies here since I did it anyway? Who cares what I do as long as I can keep the business going and give them consistent numbers? No one gives a rat's behind about what I do.

There was a pile of documents, and I heaved a sigh of exasperation at the fact that there were outstanding contracts that needed to be inspected and signed. I was under the impression that I should only conduct business with large corporations, and as a result, I would only let my own firm engage in transactions with smaller enterprises as a gesture of charity and grace. In this manner, a favorable impression of ourselves would be conveyed to the rest of the globe. Since it did not generate any income and would often cause a loss of funds for our company, I will only consent to it happening during very profitable months.

I sat down in my office chair, which was made of leather and had been well cleaned by the cleaning staff. It has always been convenient for me to be in an environment in which I can conduct my business in peace and without interference.

I just caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of my eye, but it was enough to start getting on my nerves. On top of one of the drawers was a picture of the person.

As I stand up from the chair and move closer to the object in question, I mutter under my breath, "I thought I fucking took care of this already." It was a picture of Julia and myself taken during our wedding. Julia was my bridesmaid. Everything seemed so hopeless to me at that time. I didn't give it a second thought before grabbing it and tossing it in the trash can.

“Trash. As I was making my way back to the desk, I said to myself, "Where you deserve to be."

I had married that woman so that I might advance my social standing, but in my eyes, she was nothing more than a piece of meat. The fact that a man is successful in business also makes him a good husband and father. If I weren't married, rumors and gossip about my status and maybe even my sexual orientation would spread like wildfire.

I've never been able to wrap my head around the idea of love; why would anyone want to devote themselves to a single partner for the rest of their lives without taking into account the possibility that the partner may alter your life in ways that you could never recover from? I would just dedicate myself to the company and nothing else. I had married Julia because she was the ideal toy for me; she is naive, innocent, and believes in the idea of love. I had married Julia. To some extent, I feel that she still believes in it, which makes her an even more repulsive person. She was the type of woman who was interested in listening to tall tales and nonsense. That just is not the case. It was never the case. She was nothing more than an object of my passion, just like every other woman who has ever entered my life; they were all nothing more to me than fleshlights for me to take pleasure in. My own wife never raised an objection whenever I brought another lady into the house, even though I did it on a regular basis. She could even hear us banging and fucking away, yet she would still allow it to happen despite the fact that she could hear it. Because I would severely punish her if she spoke out, if she did. Which made me delighted since I wanted to exert some degree of control over her. to torture her whenever she acts in a disobedient manner. to make use of her when I was unable to locate anyone else to utilize.

To me, she is nothing more than that. Someone or something I despise.

Before beginning to work on the piles of material in front of me, I found myself saying, "I fucking hate you." "I fucking hate you," I said to myself.