My CEO Husband's Scandal with His Employee

I folded another dress into the suitcase, my hands trembling as I pressed it flat. The room felt colder than usual, despite the late morning sun streaming through the windows.

I zipped the case slowly, closing it like I was burying something. Or someone.

My past self, maybe.

The door slammed open behind me.

“And where the hell do you think you’re going?”

Colton’s voice was sharp, accusing. He stood at the threshold in his suit, hair perfectly styled, like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t watched me be humiliated and accused. Like he hadn’t abandoned me.

I didn’t look up. “I’m leaving.”

He scoffed. “Leaving? You mean going on a trip? And who told you that you could leave?”

Still calm, I answered, “I don’t need your permission.”

“You’re my wife. You don’t get to just walk out! Especially not now. You’re staying here, Nadia. Locked in this house if I have to.”

I turned to face him slowly, gaze empty. “Why? So I can watch you parade Beatrice and Maureen around again like they belong here more than I do?”

“They do!” he barked, stepping forward. “They were supposed to stay here—this was their home too! You pushed them out!”

“Then let them stay,” I said, folding my arms. “Since you’ve already chosen your new little family, let me go.”

“No,” he said coldly, his voice deepening. “You’re not going anywhere. Have you forgotten about the deal tomorrow? The investors want you there. You—with your name, your face, your perfect image. You’re part of the contract, remember?”

He grabbed the suitcase and hurled it across the room. Clothes scattered everywhere.

“I don’t care if you cry, scream, or beg,” he continued. “You’re not leaving until I say you can.”

He leaned in, voice low and threatening. “And you’re going to apologize. To Beatrice. To Maureen. You hurt them. You’ll make it right, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Then, without another word, he turned and left—slamming the door behind him and clicking the lock from outside.

I stood there in silence, shaking.

This wasn’t love.

This was prison.

I dropped to the floor, curling into myself, sobbing into the silence. Everything inside me felt heavy and hollow at the same time. The more I fought for a life with him, the more I lost myself. And now—I had nothing left.

When I finally lifted my head, the light outside had dimmed. The sky was painted in bruised lavender and muted gold—a beautiful lie above a home that had become my prison.

I walked to the drawer and took out a small white candle—the one I had once saved for our baby's room, back when I still believed there would be lullabies instead of lies. Back when I believed there was still something gentle about the future.

I lit it with shaking fingers and placed it by the window. A small flame. A quiet goodbye.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, voice catching in my throat. “I should’ve given you a better start. A better father. But maybe… maybe it’s better this way. You never had to see me like this. You never had to know how unloved you were… by him.”

The flame flickered as if listening, then burned steady, warm and defiant. I stared at it until tears blurred my vision. Until the silence wrapped around me like a shroud.

I sat for a long time after lighting the candle, letting the silence settle into my bones. But even peace, even mourning, didn’t last long here.

Eventually, I stood and walked to the door.

I tried the knob. Locked.

I knocked—once, twice. “Hello?!” I called out.

No answer. I slammed my palm against the wood, harder this time. “Is anyone out there?!”

I heard faint shuffling beyond it—someone was there. One of the butlers. The ones Colton had paid too well to ever defy him. My throat tightened.

“I need to go out,” I said, forcing my voice to sound steady. “Please—just open the door.”

Still, no answer.

I stepped back, heart pounding, panic clawing at my chest.

He really meant it.

I was trapped. But I wasn’t staying.

Not another night. Not another second.

I moved quickly, knowing the time was ticking before Colton came back.

First, I went to the desk.

I pulled open the drawer and took out the envelope that held the divorce papers. I placed it squarely in the center of the desk. Next, I reached for my wedding ring. I slid it off my finger and dropped it beside the papers.

I grabbed my passport from the top drawer. I hadn’t packed again, not after Colton had thrown everything, but I didn’t need much. I wrapped a shawl around me, pulled on a hoodie, then went to the closet.

I found one of the longer bedsheets—white and soft. I folded it in half and twisted it like a rope. My hands trembled as I tied one end around the heavy side railing of the balcony door and opened the glass quietly.

The air was cold. Sharp.

I stepped onto the balcony. Two floors up.

I glanced down—there was no one in the garden.

No alarms. No guards in sight.

Gripping the makeshift rope, I climbed down slowly, biting my lip to keep from making any noise. My foot slipped once—I nearly screamed—but I caught myself, heart thudding.

The drop was farther than it looked. My arms ached. My breath came in sharp bursts.

Finally, I hit the ground, knees buckling. I landed in the rose bushes. Thorns scratched my hands and legs, but I didn’t care. I was out.

I ran. Straight to the outer gate, across the path lined with memories I never wanted again.

And there—just outside the driveway—

A sleek black car.

Scott. He stepped out, eyes scanning sharply until he saw me emerge from the trees, disheveled and breathless.

“Nadia?”

“I was locked in,” I gasped. “I had no other way out. I had to jump.”

Scott’s jaw clenched. He stepped forward and took off his jacket, wrapping it around me. “Did he hurt you again?”

I shook my head, but I couldn’t speak. My hands trembled as I held onto his arm.

“Let’s go,” he said. “You’re never coming back to him!”

He led me to the car and opened the door. I didn’t look back, not once.

We sped away before anyone could notice I was gone.

At the airport, I removed my SIM card, tossed it into the trash bin.

By the time Colton returned home, I was already gone... and he would never find me again.