The intern was being rough on purpose, making my wife cry out just so I could hear. The next day, he swaggered out of the room next door, a constellation of hickies on his neck, and smirked at me. “So what if Aurora legally married you, Ian?” he taunted. “She’s still having a wedding with me, isn’t she?” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Oh, and I recorded it last night. Want me to send you a copy?” I stared at him for a beat, then a slow smile spread across my face. “Here’s the difference between you and me,” I said. “I’m not into sloppy seconds.” The intern choked, his face flushing with anger before he stormed off. Moments later, Aurora burst in, her face a mask of fury. “I told you the wedding was fake! What the hell are you saying?” she seethed. “Now look what you’ve done. Nicholas’s having a depressive episode, threatening to cut his wrists. Are you happy now?” Her voice was sharp, a weapon. “You will record a video apology. Right now. Post it on your feed, and once he forgives you, then maybe I’ll consider giving you a proper wedding.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Forget it. Let’s just get a divorce.” 1 “A divorce?” Aurora looked at me as if I’d just told the funniest joke in the world, one eyebrow arched in disbelief. “Drank a little too much champagne today, Ian? Did it fry your brain?” Her eyes raked over me, dripping with a contempt she didn’t bother to hide. “Let’s get one thing straight. Without the halo of ‘Aura & Associates,’ what is the name ‘Ian’ even worth in this city?” She took a step closer. “Who gave you the platform? Who gave you the chance to climb this high? Have you forgotten?” she sneered. “Without the ‘Aura’ brand, without the resources I handed you, you’d probably still be a glorified paralegal at some back-alley firm, chasing down pennies for chump change cases!” My hands, hanging at my sides, clenched into fists, the knuckles turning bone-white. Who gave me the platform? Right. As if my sacrifices meant nothing. The seed money for the firm? I mortgaged everything I owned. Those impossible, top-tier clients? I landed them, one by one, through sheer grit. The landmark cases that defined our firm’s reputation? I led the team, bled for them through sleepless nights and endless days. That plaque on the wall, the one naming us one of the ‘Top Ten Law Firms in the Nation’—I built that with my own sweat and blood. And now she was saying I was just riding her coattails? A white-hot rage shot through me, so intense it twisted into a grim smile. “So you and Nicholas get to play Romeo and Juliet on stage, and I don’t even have the right to ask for a divorce?” “Shut up!” Aurora’s voice cracked like a whip. “Nicholas’s family was trying to set him up with a woman in her fifties. I was helping him out of a jam. Do you have any idea how social obligations work?” “And now you’ve pushed him to the edge! If anything happens to him, can you bear that responsibility?” What had I done? Even a genuine depressive episode didn't work like this. Looking at the face I once loved, all I felt was a bone-deep weariness, a cold, crushing sense of absurdity. “Is he really that fragile?” I asked, my voice flat. The whole performance was so clumsy, anyone with eyes could see through it. But Aurora was a true believer. “Drop the sarcastic act, Ian,” she said, her eyes like chips of ice. “I’m warning you. If Nicholas suffers any real harm, I swear I’ll call the cops. Verbal abuse, emotional distress, defamation—go ahead and try me. See how well your career holds up after that.” The cops. Ha. The bitter taste of ash filled my mouth. In her eyes, I was worth less than a stray dog on the street. She took a deep breath, visibly forcing her anger down, and issued her final command. “Right now. This instant. Record a sincere apology. Post it to your social media so everyone can see you mean it.” She paused, as if bestowing upon me a great mercy. “Once he’s calmed down and he’s willing to accept your apology… I’ll consider arranging an even grander ceremony to make it up to you.” A grander ceremony. That phrase had been a siren song, a curse that had haunted me for eight years. When the firm is stable… she’d said when we started. After we land this big project… she’d promised later. Once we make the Top Ten list… I waited and waited, only to watch her stand in the spotlight with another man on her arm. And now, she expected me to keep waiting, like a beggar hoping for scraps. The toxic resentment I’d swallowed for eight years finally detonated in my chest, the force of it stealing my breath. I was so tired. Done waiting. “An apology?” A humorless smile touched my lips, my voice clear and cold as a winter morning. “Maybe in the next life.” Without a second glance at her stunned face, I turned on my heel and walked away. “Ian! You get back here!” she shrieked behind me. I didn’t hear her. My steps never faltered. The moment I stepped out of the hotel, the cold wind hit me like a slap. As I walked toward the parking lot, a figure darted out from the shadows. “Mr. Archer! Finally caught you!” It was Mark, an assistant, panting as he shoved a heavy document box into my arms. “Here. The ‘Skyreach Merger’ case! Ms. Rose just gave the order. She said you’re to take full responsibility. The first draft of the legal opinion is due by midnight. The client is waiting.” I steadied the box, my brow furrowing. “Isn’t this Nicholas’s case? Why are you giving it to me?” Mark smirked, his tone dripping with disdain. “Nicholas? Please. He’s busy playing the ‘newlywed.’ He doesn’t have time for a ten-billion-dollar grind like this. Ms. Rose said she needed a ‘workhorse’ like you to step up.” He emphasized the word “workhorse,” his eyes flicking over me. “Her exact words were, ‘Have Ian handle it immediately.’” Looking at his smug face, I almost laughed. Skyreach. The beast of a case I’d spent six months wrestling to the ground, the one that gave me a bleeding ulcer but ultimately secured our spot at the top. The crown jewel. Nicholas had idly mentioned he wanted to "give it a try," and Aurora had just handed it over. A goddamn intern who couldn’t even write a proper due diligence report was suddenly capable of handling a multi-billion-dollar merger. And now, they wanted to toss it back to me? Newlywed? What a fucking joke. “She told me to take it, so I have to take it?” I slammed the box back into his chest, my voice hard as steel. “You go tell Aurora that I am not touching this case.” Mark stumbled back, his face twisting in fury. “Mr. Archer! Don’t be ungrateful…” “You’re the one who doesn’t know his place!” All the pent-up rage erupted at once. I swung my arm, sending the box—the culmination of countless hours of my life—flying. A snowstorm of papers exploded into the night, dancing madly in the wind. Mark leaped back, his finger pointing at me, trembling. “Ian! You… you’re insane! Are you trying to get blacklisted?!” I gave him a chilling smile. “This place? I’ve been done with it for a long time.” Without another glance, I wrenched my car door open. The engine roared to life, tearing a hole in the night’s silence. Back at the cold, empty apartment. I didn’t bother with the lights, letting the neon glow from the city outside illuminate the space as I packed my last few things. Clothes, books, personal effects… everything I owned here fit into a single suitcase. The doorbell buzzed, sharp and sudden. It was a courier. “Urgent delivery for Ms. Aurora Rose. Sign here.” The delivery guy handed me a thin paper mailer and was gone. The address was right, the recipient was Aurora. But what was inside? A knot of dread tightened in my gut. I tore open the seal. My mind went blank. The blood in my veins turned to ice. Inside the bag were several boxes of ultra-thin, imported condoms and a piece of black lace lingerie so sheer it was practically transparent. It lay there, a stark, damning piece of evidence. “Ha…” A broken, dry laugh forced its way out of my throat. Just this morning, it was a "fake wedding." Tonight, they were already stocking up for their honeymoon. The last, dying ember of hope in my heart was finally extinguished. I crushed the bag in my fist, the plastic groaning under the pressure. My phone screen lit up, Aurora’s name flashing frantically. I stared at the blinding light for a few seconds before swiping to answer, my movements stiff and robotic. Her shrill voice stabbed through the receiver. “Ian! How dare you throw the Skyreach files?! Are you looking for a fight?!” “The legal opinion better be in my inbox by midnight! Do you understand me?” She spoke with such entitlement, as if the drama from earlier had never happened. The sheer absurdity of it made my temples throb. “Why should I?” “Because I am the founding partner! And I am your wife!” Her voice shot up, the rage practically melting the phone. “Getting bold, are we, Ian? You think you can defy me?” “You want to see what happens? I’ll call a partners’ meeting tomorrow and have you demoted from senior partner to intern assistant! See how you like that!” “Hah.” Eight years of my life, my soul poured into this firm, and my name wasn’t even on the goddamn letterhead. All I got was the hollow title of "senior partner." What a fucking joke.
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