She Handed My Ring to Her Assistant,I Handed Her a Divorce

The first time he ever ate at a buffet, I was the one who took him.

He told me once that when he made something of himself, he'd repay me.

And now here he was, holding my girlfriend,

dressed head to toe in clothes she'd bought him, telling everyone he felt sorry for her because I'd been stringing her along.

Even if it meant throwing away my own dignity, I was done protecting theirs.

I pulled a stack of printed pages from my bag.

And read them out loud in front of every single colleague：

“Three months ago, my girlfriend booked a hotel room for the two of you. The room and the protection came out to $5,800.”

“Two months ago, she bought you a limited-edition belt worth $10,200.”

“One week ago, she bought you a ring worth $126,000.”

……

“I have receipts and photos for all of it. So tell me, who exactly was deceiving whom?”

Whispers rippled through the office.

Some of my coworkers didn't even bother hiding their contempt.

Felicity's face went white, then flushed scarlet.

I told someone to help me move my things back to their original spots.

Felicity tried to stop them, but nobody listened.

Kenneth was the most ruthless：“Mr. Whitfield, let me spray some sanitizer in your office. Reeks of homewrecker in here. Can barely breathe!”

He doused both of them with it.

In the end, all Felicity could manage was sputtering, “Fine! Fine, all of you!”

Then she grabbed Julian and left.

I'd barely settled back into my chair when my phone rang. It was Elder Harmon.

“Ash, are you really coming home?”

“If it's for sure, I'll have the Pruitt girl meet you at the train station.”

I smiled for the first time in a long while.

“Already bought my ticket. But don't tell Granny yet. I want to surprise her.”

The Elder's voice lifted, warm and bright.

He said good, good, and hung up.

Our village didn't really have a rule about marrying by thirty, but Granny was eighty years old.

She couldn't wait forever.

After things blew up between Felicity and me,

the two of them only got bolder at the office.

Like they were relieved they didn't have to sneak around anymore.

Like they wanted to rub it in my face.

They were joined at the hip every day.

Whenever Felicity attended an event, the man on her arm was Julian.

He even started acting like he owned the place, barking orders at coworkers left and right.

Just waiting for me to walk out the door so he could take my seat.

Kenneth couldn't stand it. He vented to me more than once.

I clapped him on the shoulder.

“Hold steady. Let him run his mouth.”

By the fifth time Julian tried to provoke me and I didn't take the bait,

he finally cracked.

He barged into my office without knocking.

“Felicity's done with you. Why are you still hanging around like a stray?”

I reached over and casually smoothed a wrinkle on his brand-new suit.

Then spoke without looking up：

“Women follow the money. You know how it is.”

“You do realize I hold forty-nine percent of this company, right? How much do you hold?”

“How about a little bet? If she's willing to give you ten percent, I'll forfeit every share I own and walk out that door.”

“If she won't, you're the one who walks. Deal?”

The color drained from his face.

But he nodded：“Deal! Don't come crying when you lose!”

A few days later, Julian walked into my office with Felicity in tow.

He slapped a share-transfer agreement down on my desk.

I scanned the second clause: fifteen percent, transferred to his name. I laughed out loud.

“Drop the act, Ashton. Pack your things and get out!”

Felicity glanced at me, a flicker of something uneasy crossing her face.

“Ash, don't blame me for helping him. It was just a bet. Think of it as a consolation prize for the kid.”

Then her tone shifted.

“But we're business people, and our word is everything. A bet's a bet, win or lose.”