Her Assistant Humiliated Me,So I Revealed I'm a Billionaire Heir

"You're doing this on purpose. Playing the victim for sympathy."

"Since you love playing the victim so much, I'll give you what you deserve. Effective immediately, you're demoted."

The moment Marcia finished snapping at me, she spun on her heel and left without a backward glance. She walked fast, as if every second away from Edward put him in mortal danger.

I raised my hand and touched the spot where she'd struck me. A thin line of blood welled up where her freshly manicured nails had broken the skin.

They always said it on TV, and now I knew it was true. Even the deepest love couldn't withstand the grinding of time. Sooner or later, two people who once adored each other could look at one another and feel nothing but disgust.

The whispers around the office came in waves.

"He's got it rough. Married into a rich family, and even if he never intended to climb the social ladder, the world slapped that label on him anyway."

"What Ms. Harding did was cold-blooded. An employee who works himself to the bone can't compete with some guy who knows how to bat his eyes and play helpless."

"All over a cup of coffee. She shredded the contract he busted his back to land, and then demoted him on top of it."

"If I were him, I'd divorce her too."

Hearing the gossip, I felt none of the old frustration, none of the familiar ache.

Because I was done with Marcia. The divorce I'd demanded wasn't a bluff.

I slipped out quietly through the tide of murmurs.

Carl Fox, the closest thing I had to a real friend here, stepped forward and slung an arm around my shoulder. "Hey, man. You okay?"

"Let's just walk out together. We don't have to take this crap."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Walk out? You?"

"You've got your parents to take care of and kids to feed. Jobs aren't exactly falling from the sky right now. Stay, keep your head down, and earn your paycheck."

I went back to my office. The second the door clicked shut, my eyes burned red.

I'd only had the promotion for a few days. The chair hadn't even warmed up, and she was already pushing me out.

My mother was lying in a hospital bed. She needed money for treatment. The thought had barely formed when my phone buzzed in my pocket. The screen showed her attending physician's number.

"Mr. Stephens, you need to get to the hospital. Now."

"Your mother is insisting on being discharged. She says she doesn't want to be a burden to you anymore."

I didn't even stop to grab my things. I just ran.

When I pushed open the door to her room, her eyes were swollen and raw from crying. The moment she saw me, she quickly wiped the tears away and forced a smile onto her face.

"There you are, sweetheart."

"Mom's feeling so much better now. I can go home."

"Mom, don't lie to me. Your condition is getting worse. There's no way you can leave the hospital."

"Sweetheart, we have to face reality. Nobody knows my body better than I do."

"Just help me with the discharge paperwork, okay? I want to go home and cook you a proper meal."

"You silly boy. It's your birthday today!"

She reached up and cupped my face, her palm warm against skin hollowed out by too many sleepless nights.

Her eyes went red again.

In the end, I couldn't argue with her. I signed the papers and brought her home.

We stopped at the market on the way, and she and I loaded up on groceries. Half were dishes I loved. The other half were Marcia's favorites.

While she bustled around the kitchen, Mom kept calling Marcia. She'd been discharged today, and it was my birthday. She wanted the three of us to sit down together, like a real family.

But the calls never went through.

On the ninety-ninth attempt, someone finally picked up.

It was Edward.

"Oh, hey! Is that you, Everard?"

"Looking for Marcia? She's curled up on my shoulder, fast asleep. She looked so exhausted, I didn't have the heart to wake her."

My chest seized. Instinctively, I turned to look at my mother.