My Wife Regretted Tossing Me Aside for Her Assistant

"You were already in his arms. Do you really think an explanation still matters?"

"I’ve been drunk countless times while handling business. Have you ever seen me needing a woman’s support?"

Hyacinth’s lips trembled, but I didn’t give her a chance to speak.

"I’ll have the lawyer draft the divorce agreement. Let’s end this."

"No! I won’t sign!"

She sobbed bitterly, but her feet remained planted in place—she didn’t even dare to chase after me.

Zavier rushed to her side, his voice full of arrogance. "Hyacinth, don’t be afraid. You’re the president of the company. If he dares to cause trouble, just fire him. What’s there to fear? A useless man living off you?"

Before returning to the company, I made a call to the shareholders.

When I arrived, the shift in the employees’ gazes was impossible to miss; they were hesitant and wary, almost as if they knew something I didn’t.

I ignored it and headed straight to my office.

Torin Payne, the vice president of the sales department, hurried in, handing me his phone. His expression was grim.

On the screen was the company’s group chat.

Zavier had tagged everyone, his message glaring back at me: [Sales Manager Tobias has been fired.]

So that was why they looked at me like that.

I leaned back in my chair, tilting my head slightly. A slow smirk crept onto my lips as I asked, "Tell me, brother, whose company is this?"

Torin slammed his fist on the desk, his voice filled with frustration. "This company was running just fine, but your wife turned it into a disaster. Everyone’s talking about how you’ve been cheated on and that Zavier is acting like he owns the place. If this keeps up, my family might just pull out our shares."

I leaned back, unfazed. "I can handle it. Get back to work."

Torin hesitated, then sighed. "If you're feeling down, let’s go out for a drink."

"Why should I punish myself with alcohol? I did nothing wrong. Relax, brother. I’ve got this under control. Besides, I already spoke with your dad on my way back."

Torin studied me for a moment before nodding. As he reached the door, he suddenly turned back. "By the way, Sylvie just got back from abroad. I still think you’d make a great brother-in-law."

I didn’t bother responding and went back to work.

By the time I finished my tasks, the sky had darkened. I had my driver take me home.

The moment I stepped inside, the rich aroma of food filled the air.

From the kitchen, Hyacinth’s cheerful voice rang out. "Honey? You’re home? I made all your favorite dishes. Go wash your hands."

I let out a slow, mocking chuckle.

At the entrance, a pair of men’s shoes sat neatly beside mine—Zavier’s.

Was this woman brain-dead?

She had the audacity to bring him here?

I changed my shoes and stepped inside, only to freeze at the sight before me.

Zavier stood in the kitchen, holding a piece of meat to Hyacinth’s lips. She smiled, radiant, savoring the so-called moment of intimacy.

The warmth in her eyes vanished the moment she spotted me.

"H-honey..."

Her voice trembled with panic. "Don’t misunderstand! I was just tasting the seasoning, and my hands were full, so I let Zavier help me."

“No need to explain."

My gaze swept over her—over them. Then I pulled out the divorce papers from my briefcase and placed them on the table.

"And by the way, you don’t need to call me 'husband' anymore."

Her breath hitched.

"Sign it. We’ll finalize our divorce tomorrow."

Hyacinth’s face went pale. She stared at me, disbelief clouding her eyes. "Honey… You really want to divorce me?"

"Tobias, you have no shame!"

"My Hyacinth has already lowered herself to cook for you. What more do you want?"

His glare sharpened. "I even personally came here to apologize! What else do you want? Don’t push your luck!"

Hearing that, I let out a low, amused laugh.

I shrugged off my suit jacket, unfastened my watch, and slowly loosened my tie, my movements unhurried. My gaze locked onto him, cold and indifferent.

"Zavier, do you really think you're that important?"

"You call this an apology?" I scoffed. "Do you think your apology has any value?"

"And what makes you think you're any better than me?"

"I'm the president’s special assistant—second only to one, but above thousands."