I Left the CEO’s Company and Our Shared Bed

The truth was, with Marius’s capabilities, if he had truly wanted to keep Jenelle a secret, he could’ve hidden it from Cory for so long.

He let it slip on purpose—thinking the baby was almost due, and even if Cory found out the truth, she wouldn’t leave.

But she was utterly exhausted.

She had waited for him since she was a teen until she was twenty-six. From a secret crush to marriage, she had endured a secret love the whole time—all for a single moment of certainty from him.

She thought she was waiting to be loved back. But in reality, all he ever wanted was the child. All he needed from her was to quietly fulfill the role of the so-called lady of the house.

Three days later, as promised, the lawyer sent her the finalized divorce agreement.

She had barely finished reading it when a former department intern called. There was an issue at a temporary exhibition and they needed her to step in and help coordinate.

Without thinking much of it, she went.

It was a brand-sponsored art exhibit—not something she usually oversaw. But due to a reshuffling of personnel, things had gone sideways, and she was the only one left to clean up the mess.

She had just stepped into the exhibit when a familiar, deep voice floated over from ahead.

“The lighting in this section is too flat. No depth. Have the lead curator come over and rework the ‘Reverie’ series. I just happened to pass by today, but I didn’t expect there to be this many issues!”

Cory froze in her tracks.

She hadn’t expected Marius to show up at the exhibit, openly dressed in matching outfits with Jenelle, as if on a date.

“Well, well, Vice President Braithwaite! What a coincidence!”

Jenelle spotted Cory and flashed an overly friendly smile. She clung tightly to Marius’s arm, eyes brimming with smug nonchalance.

She snapped her fingers at a nearby staff member and asked softly, “Is the VP overseeing this exhibit?”

“Yes, Mrs. Braithwaite,” the staff replied.

The moment that title fell, all three faces changed.

Cory let out a breathless laugh of disbelief. Apparently, Marius, the man who had never once acknowledged her publicly, was already declaring Jenelle as his wife before their divorce was even finalized.

Marius looked visibly uncomfortable. He frowned and glanced at her, giving a subtle wink, as if asking her not to embarrass him.

Jenelle giggled triumphantly, clearly proud of herself. “Oh, don’t call me that yet. No one knows I’m dating President Braithwaite. We’re still waiting until after the wedding to make a formal announcement.”

Her words pierced Cory’s heart like a silent blade.

Meanwhile, Marius didn’t speak. He stood there frozen, his expression clouded—whether from guilt or regret, it was hard to tell.

On the other hand, Jenelle seemed completely unfazed. She strolled over and leaned in beside Cory like they were the closest friends.

“VP, you came alone? Where’s your husband?” she asked.

Cory’s tone was flat when she replied, “He’s dead.”

After all, she was planning to bring up the divorce tonight. What did it matter who her husband was anymore?

“Hey—” Marius’s face darkened, but before he could continue what he wanted to say, an employee pulled him away to deal with something urgent.

Jenelle immediately latched onto Cory’s arm like an old friend. “Come on, walk with me, will you? It’s boring by myself.”

Cory turned her head, coldly meeting her gaze. “Let go of me.”

“Oh, don’t be mean,” Jenelle replied.

Her smile faltered, but she didn’t release her grip. Instead, she leaned in and whispered softly into her ear.

“You really should be more sensible. You’re pregnant now, after all. Leave with dignity, won’t you? After all…”

She paused, then added in a lower voice, “Let’s be clear: I was never the other woman. I was with Marius first. If you had any decency, you’d carry the baby to term and then quietly get out of our way.”

Cory clenched her fists, her eyes flashing sharp with fury.

She was just about to break free when Jenelle suddenly stumbled backward, as if someone had shoved her, and crashed to the floor.

“Oh my god—!”

Jenelle tumbled near a display piece, accidentally colliding with a nearby woman visiting the exhibit with her child. The young boy—no more than five or six—fell down hard and started wailing, the toy in his hand clattering to the floor and snapping in half.

In an instant, chaos broke out in the exhibit.

The mother scooped up her son, furiously shouting, “Are you crazy?! Being pregnant doesn’t give you the right to push people! You hurt my child—you better pay for this!”

Cory stood stunned, still processing what had happened.

But before she could explain, Jenelle had already started dramatically crying.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… It’s all my fault… The Vice President didn’t mean it—she’s just been under a lot of stress lately… Please don’t blame her. She’s just under a lot of pressure…” she apologized.

“If anyone’s to blame, it’s me! It’s my fault! I upset her and made her lose control, so she pushed me…”