The wedding of the century was supposed to be my masterpiece. Instead, it was my undoing. All because my husband chose to protect his intern over me, deliberately concealing a critical change from our biggest client. After I finished my presentation, the truth crashed down on me. The client, a titan of industry, accused me of unprofessionalism. In that single, humiliating moment, I saw my husband, Steven, for who he truly was. If he was willing to gamble our company’s reputation to boost his new favorite, then I was done fighting for him. "You trust her so much?" I told him, my voice dangerously calm. "Then I wish you both the best of luck with the project." My best friend was furious on my behalf. I'd poured six months of my life into this plan. But Steven, smugly holding my proposal, thought he had the world in his hands. He had no idea. The most crucial elements for this wedding—the rare flowers, the exclusive artisans, the bespoke decor—were things only I could secure. This time, even if he got on his knees and begged, I wouldn't lift a finger to save him. ... Our event planning studio had landed the contract of a lifetime: orchestrating the wedding for the children of two of New York's most powerful families. Success meant we'd be catapulted to the top of the industry. I’d spent half a year meticulously preparing for this moment. I walked into the conference room, portfolio in hand, radiating confidence. I was ready to dazzle them. But as I began my presentation, a murmur rippled through the room. Mr. Sterling, the groom's father, slammed my design portfolio onto the polished floor. "Ms. Thompson, you gave us your solemn promise that you would deliver perfection. And yet you weren't even aware we changed the venue? You have a stunning lack of professional integrity. We want a new planner." His accusation left me frozen. "Changed the venue? When was this decided?" I asked, my mind reeling. Before I could say more, my husband, Steven, lunged forward, his fingers digging into my arm as he yanked me aside. "Mr. Sterling, my sincerest apologies," he said, plastering on a placating smile. "We actually have an alternative proposal ready. Why don't you hear it? If you're not completely satisfied, we'll cover all associated costs." Standing beside him was the intern, Maggie Hill. She shot me a fleeting, triumphant glance before striding confidently to the front of the room. As she spoke, a cold dread washed over me. Her plan… it was a ghost of my own, a 70% echo of the work I had poured my soul into. When she finished, a satisfied smile finally spread across Mr. Sterling's face. He looked pointedly at me. "See? The younger generation gets it. They're hungry. Not like some veterans who get complacent before they've even reached the top." I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Steven cut me off, nodding in agreement with Mr. Sterling. "You're absolutely right, sir. I'm afraid it's my fault. I've been too lenient with Julie, given her too much freedom. I never imagined she'd betray my trust and forget something so fundamental. Thank goodness Maggie is so proactive and had a backup plan ready." Mr. Sterling nodded, impressed. "This Maggie is sharp. I think it’s time you made her a permanent employee." Listening to them, the pieces clicked into place, forming a picture so ugly I could barely look at it. Steven had deliberately hidden the venue change from me. All for Maggie. He was using this high-profile project, backed by the Sterling name, as a launchpad for her career. I remembered when we first landed the contract. Steven had suggested giving "the new talent" more opportunities. I see now he meant Maggie all along. Maggie beamed at them, a picture of innocence. "Thank you so much, Mr. Sterling. And I owe it all to Steven's incredible mentorship. I promise you, I will personally oversee every detail of this event. There will be no mistakes." Only after securing their praise did she feign to notice me, her expression turning to one of deep apology. "Julie, I... I never meant to steal your project. I just wanted to learn so badly, so I kept preparing my own proposals for Steven to review. I had no idea you'd make such a critical error and that mine would be used instead. It was an accident." Before I could respond, Steven jumped to her defense. "Someone as hardworking, dedicated, and talented as you is an asset any company would fight for. How could we possibly blame you?" His words were like daggers to my heart. I was his wife, the person who was supposed to be his closest confidante. Yet here he was, tearing me down for a complete stranger. Maggie and I came from the same small town. She didn't meet our company's hiring criteria, but her earnest plea for a chance softened my heart, and I brought her on. At first, she was diligent and hardworking. Her skills were raw, but I believed in her potential. Things changed a few months ago when I had to travel internationally for this very wedding, sourcing materials. I’d asked Steven to supervise her in my absence. In the beginning, he complained constantly about how clumsy she was, how she nearly sabotaged one of his projects. I’d urged him to be patient, to teach her. Gradually, the complaints stopped. I assumed it was because she was improving. I never imagined it was because their relationship had changed. When I returned, I planned to have Maggie resume her duties as my assistant. But Steven protested. "Come on, I just finished molding this raw talent into something useful, and now you want to take her away? I'd have to start all over with a new assistant. Have a heart, honey." It felt strange, but I let him convince me. I was a fool. The signs were all there. Now, finally, I understood. If Steven wanted to build her a pedestal, I wouldn't stand in his way. "Fine," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "Since you have so much faith in her abilities, then I'm out." I turned to them both. "I wish you the best of luck." I walked away without a backward glance. Behind me, I heard Maggie's anxious whisper. "Steven, I think she's really angry. I'm just an intern, how can I possibly take over a project this big?" Steven's voice was firm, unwavering. "She's the one who lost her focus. You didn't force her out; she gave up. I've seen your work, Maggie. You're the future of this industry. I know you can do this." I clenched my fists, forcing myself not to turn around and witness their touching moment of solidarity. That afternoon, Maggie celebrated by buying the whole office bubble tea. My colleagues immediately started singing her praises. "I knew all your hard work would pay off, Maggie!" "Don't forget us when you're a senior planner!" Seeing her smug, triumphant expression, I let out a cold, quiet laugh. Did she really think getting the proposal approved was the same as winning? That was just the first step. The real challenge—sourcing the materials—was yet to come. The Sterlings and their in-laws were old money. This wedding wasn't just a ceremony; it was a statement of their families' power and prestige. There was a reason I'd spent months flying back and forth across the globe. A moment later, Maggie pushed open my office door without knocking, a plastic cup of bubble tea in her hand. She casually dropped it on my desk. "Here, Julie. I bought you a drink. Hope you like it." I frowned. I hate overly sweet things, a fact I'd mentioned to her countless times when she was my assistant. She must have forgotten, having spent so much time at Steven’s side. "I appreciate the thought, but I don't drink bubble tea. You can have it," I said, waving it away. Just then, the door opened again. It was Steven. Seeing him, Maggie suddenly stumbled, letting the cup of bubble tea slip from her grasp. It splattered all over her, the dark liquid and tapioca pearls staining the floor. She shot a quick glance at Steven, then immediately feigned panic. "Oh, I'm so clumsy! I can't even do something as simple as giving you a drink, Julie." She looked at me, saw the smirk playing on my lips, and her eyes widened in alarm. She dropped to her knees and started frantically trying to wipe up the mess with the hem of her own dress. "I'm so sorry, Julie! I'll get it clean, I promise! I won't bring drinks into the office again, please don't be angry!" Steven strode forward, his brow furrowed in anger. He pulled Maggie to her feet. "Julie, is this how you treat our star employee? If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't just have a damaged reputation—we'd be facing a massive lawsuit!" I laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. "Who made the 'mistake'? Who hid the fact that Mr. Sterling changed the venue? And that proposal of hers—who do you think really wrote it? Others might not know, Steven, but you do, don't you?" He didn't answer my question. Instead, he took off his own jacket and draped it gently around Maggie's shoulders. "You've been through enough, Maggie. Why don't you go home for the day?" Watching them, a chill crept through my veins. Once we were alone in the office, his anger finally erupted. "What is wrong with you? Why are you always imagining things? I was swamped with clients, I was exhausted, I just forgot to tell you! It's that simple!" "And Maggie's proposal?" I shot back. "I suppose it’s just a coincidence that it sounds exactly like something I would write, after months of you 'mentoring' her?" "If you don't want to work, then just go home!" he snarled. "Go be a housewife. My mother's been nagging me for a grandchild anyway. You can stay home, clean the house, take care of my parents, and raise the kids. Leave the business to me." Maggie had deliberately left the door ajar on her way out. She wanted the whole office to hear me get humiliated. Fine. Let's see who would truly be the laughingstock. I let out a derisive snort. "Steven, just because they call you 'boss' doesn't mean you're actually in charge. And as for me becoming a housewife? You're not nearly man enough to make me." I leaned forward, my voice dropping but carrying clearly through the open door. "And another thing. This company has always promoted based on merit. Seducing the boss might get you ahead for a little while, but it's not a sustainable career path in this industry." Steven's face turned crimson with rage. "What nonsense are you spouting? How dare you slander a talented colleague like that? You're just threatened by her! You're afraid she's going to replace you!" I shrugged. "Well then, I look forward to the day your 'intensive training' pays off." Our argument echoed through the quiet office. I saw my colleagues exchange knowing glances. They understood exactly what I was implying. A brand-new intern with no experience, producing a flawless, high-level proposal in just a few months? Impossible without a lot of hands-on guidance. To celebrate Maggie's "success" in saving the project, Steven decided to make her promotion official immediately. The company had a tradition of holding a welcome party for every new full-time employee. Maggie put on a show of inviting me, but Steven stopped her. "She loves to work so much, let's not disturb her," he announced to the office. "Everyone else, let's clock out early and go celebrate!" A cheer went up, and moments later, the office was silent and empty. The sudden quiet was deafening. My heart ached. Steven and I had built this company from nothing, just the two of us. Now, he was shutting me out completely. I needed to get out. I called my best friend, and we hit a bar. After venting for an hour, I started to feel a bit more human. She, on the other hand, had her eyes glued to the dancers on stage and, with my blessing, eagerly dove into the crowd. I nursed a drink, feeling bored, and was about to find my own entertainment when I spotted a familiar group in a booth across the room: Steven and the team. Maggie was nestled right beside him, her cheeks flushed as she gazed at him adoringly. Someone tried to make her drink, and Steven smoothly intercepted the glass, downing it for her. It was a scene I knew all too well. He used to do that for me. "As long as I'm here," he'd once said, "you'll never have to drink anything you don't want to." Maggie saw me first. She immediately got up and rushed over, linking her arm through mine with practiced friendliness, pulling me toward their table. "Julie! You're here! You should have told us. I bet you and Steven have made up." She smiled brightly. "Every couple fights. Steven's so forgiving, I knew he wouldn't stay mad at you." Every word was a carefully crafted barb, designed to paint me as the one at fault. She then gave Steven a little push. "Steven, come on. Julie is clearly extending an olive branch. Don't let me be the villain in your love story. If you two don't make up, all those nasty rumors about me in the office will just get worse." Clever. She was publicly addressing the very rumors I'd started, framing herself as the victim. Steven puffed out his chest, playing his part perfectly. "Alright, since you've admitted you were wrong, I won't hold it against you. For the sake of our marriage. But I will not tolerate a senior manager bullying a junior employee." He fixed me with a stern look. "You're my wife. You need to set an example. Apologize to Maggie, and I'll forgive you." He leaned back against the sofa, legs crossed, a condescending smirk on his face like a king addressing a peasant. Maggie picked up a glass of wine from the table and held it out, looking at me with hopeful eyes.
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