I Got Punished for Opening My Wife's Premium Gift Set

“I just did a little cleanup for you,” Oscar said, smug. “Your laptop’s all nice and empty now.”

That laptop… it held all my project files, confidential strategy documents—everything I’d worked years to build.

Oscar deleted all of it, just like that!

My fists clenched on instinct. I slammed one to the dirt floor. “Oscar, you’ve crossed the line. I’ll hold you legally accountable for this!”

His mocking laugh crackled through the speaker, slicing through the night. “Legally accountable? Look at yourself, Teddy. You’re covered in pig shit, crying in a barn like a stray dog. Who’s going to take you seriously?”

He held the phone closer to Tyler so I could hear her laughing too.

“If you so much as touch Ozy,” she sneered, “I’ll serve you pig shit for breakfast. Got it?”

My hand trembled around the phone, my knuckles pale with rage. The smell of manure and mold invaded my nose again, but it was the burning in my gut and the roaring in my heart that drowned out everything else.

I drew in a breath, forcing my voice steady, “Tyler, don’t forget—I’m still listed as the company’s legal representative.”

I paused, my voice shaking. “What you’re doing now—this is embezzlement. And leaking trade secrets. That’s a criminal offense.”

For a brief second, there was silence on the line. Then came a burst of harsh laughter.

Oscar’s voice was gleeful, “Oh, Mr. Campbell, you still think you’ve got cards to play? Buddy, Tyler transferred her shares to me weeks ago. The company’s mine now. Campbell’s out. Green’s in.”

The words hit like a hammer to the chest.

Tyler… she actually gave away the company?

Then it hit me—last month, when she’d been all sweet and affectionate, asking me to sign off on some “routine paperwork.” I was swamped with client deadlines. I didn’t even read the documents. I just… signed.

“You… you tricked me…” I could barely speak.

Tyler’s voice came through like a victorious queen claiming her throne. “That’s right. Those were the papers.”

“Why do you think I made you eat from a pig trough? I wanted to strip away every last shred of your dignity.” She added, “But hey, we were married once. So I’m feeling generous. I’ll give you… one last chance.”

Her voice stretched out slowly, each word coated in ice. “If you get down on your knees in front of the whole company… admit you’re worthless… and begged for Ozy's apology—I might let you stay on as a janitor.”

Oscar soon burst out laughing. Behind him, I could hear the soft clink of champagne glasses.

A sharp stab twisted through my stomach. I was in no condition to argue. Right now, I just needed to get treatment for the pain tearing through my gut.

“…Fine,” I said. “I’ll do it. But I can’t even stand right now. Can you come pick me up?”

There was a rustling sound on the other end—Tyler, probably getting dressed.

“Well, at least you know your place,” she said coldly. “Wait there. We’ll be there in thirty.”

Just before the call ended, Oscar sneered, “Should we bring some pig feed for him to snack on during the ride?”

Cold sweat ran down my back, soaking into my waistband. I forced myself to sit up, then crawl to the edge of the pen, clutching the rusted iron bars for support. Under the pale moonlight, the metal gleamed.

Three years ago flashed through my mind. Tyler was sobbing in my arms. She said her father had emptied her savings and disappeared. It was me who sold my share of the house to pay off her debt. I started the business with her from scratch.

She’d cried into my chest and said she’d never leave me.

That we’d build a life—together.

The memory punched me in the stomach. I doubled over, dry heaving into the dirt.

Soon after, headlights sliced through the dark. Tyler’s SUV pulled up beside the pigpen. Oscar sat in the passenger seat.

“Oh my God, Tyler,” he said, plugging his nose. “He smells disgusting.”

I forced myself upright, gripping the rusted bars. Sweat soaked my shirt.

Tyler took one look at me, recoiling a step. Her gaze landed on my knees—caked in filth and pig manure.

“Ugh, disgusting. If I’d known you’d look this pathetic, I would’ve left you here a few more days.”

She popped the trunk, rummaging around until she pulled out a giant trash bag.

“Here,” she said. “Sit on this. Don’t you dare mess up my car.”

“Mr. Campbell, you really do look like a stray dog now!"

Without warning, Oscar grabbed me by the collar. His metal watch dug painfully into my throat.

“You were so high and mighty in the boardroom and now you’re not even good enough to sit in the front seat?” He turned to Tyler with a smirk. “What do you think, sweetheart? Maybe we should throw him in the trunk?”

Tyler laughed as she pushed her sunglasses up onto her head, revealing perfectly arched brows. “Trunk’s broken. Don’t want him run away, do we?”

Their laughter rang in my ears like nails on a chalkboard. My stomach twisted violently and I doubled over, clutching my gut. Cold sweat trickled through my fingers.

Tyler sneered, giving the metal gate a few sharp kicks. “Cut the act. Get in the car. You’ve got a livestream apology tomorrow morning, remember?”

She pulled out her phone and waved it at me—on screen was the backend of the company’s official account.

“Three million followers can’t wait to watch the founder of Campbell Enterprises beg for forgiveness. Beats any ad campaign we’ve ever run.”

At that moment, all hope drained out of me. I’d had enough. After getting my stomach pumped at the hospital, I called a number I’d kept hidden away.

The call connected almost instantly. My voice was hoarse, “I’m coming back tomorrow. Shut down all of Tyler Powell’s projects. Every single one.”