My Wife Chose Her Assistant Over Our Family Legacy

My phone rang again.

I assumed it was Nina, but when I glanced at the screen, I froze.

The caller ID left me speechless.

I picked up. A familiar, lazy voice floated through the speaker:

“Sir, is it true? You really divorced Nina?”

---

Half an hour later, at a coffee shop near Grant Industries.

Olivia Grant sat across from me, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“So,” she said lightly, stirring her coffee, “what’s next now that you’re free from Nina?”

I gave a bitter smile and sighed.

“Haven’t really thought that far. First, I’ll get the divorce certificate. Then maybe… start job hunting.”

I paused, glancing out the window.

“Not that anyone would hire me right now. My name’s been dragged through the mud online. Who’d take the risk?”

Olivia snorted softly.

“Maybe the internet doesn’t know your worth, but I do.”

She leaned forward, her eyes sharp with confidence.

“All these years, I’ve asked you more than once to join Grant Industries. Every time, you turned me down because of Nina.”

“I told you back then—staying in that small-time Sullivan Corporation was a waste of your ability. You’ve already repaid whatever debt you owed the Sullivan family. You practically rebuilt their business with your bare hands.”

“Now that Nina’s kicked you out like garbage, if you refuse me again, that would be just plain stupid.”

She flashed a sly grin.

“I’ll say it one more time: the Vice President position at Grant Industries is still wide open. Come work with me. What do you say?”

Grant Industries wasn’t even in the same league as Sullivan Corporation. And her offer was sincere—generous, even.

I took a deep breath and smiled.

“If I turned you down again, wouldn’t that make me the ungrateful one?”

Olivia raised her eyebrows, her expression smug.

“Welcome to Grant Industries, Sir.”

She extended her hand.

I shook it with a grin.

“Looking forward to working with you, Boss.”

---

Later that day, Olivia took me directly to Grant Industries to finalize my onboarding.

Then, as if that weren’t enough, she handed me the keys to a villa.

“You don’t have a place to stay right now,” she said with a teasing smile. “This one’s under my name. I rarely live there anyway—stay as long as you need.”

It sounded like a generous gesture from a boss to her new VP.

But that smile... that strange, playful curve of her lips—it made me feel vaguely uneasy.

And when we arrived at the villa’s location, I understood why.

Moonridge Estates.

The very same gated community where Nina and I used to live.

I wasn’t the only one caught off guard.

The security guards and property staff blinked in disbelief. Just that afternoon, they’d blocked my entry because Nina had revoked my facial recognition access.

Now, just hours later, I was back—with Olivia personally handling my registration and access.

When we stepped out of the property office, the manager looked at me like he’d seen a ghost.

Olivia handed me the keys and said, “Enjoy your new home,” before turning to leave.

Her villa was in the heart of the community—the crown jewel of the entire complex. Twice the size of the home I used to share with Nina.

As I stood at the door, inserting the key, I heard footsteps.

I turned.