1 The fourth year of my marriage to Amelia was the year the company started to die. To save the firm from bankruptcy, she recruited a top-tier project manager from overseas, a man who’d landed nine-figure deals. The day he came in to sign his contract, I saw the butterfly tattoo on his wrist. The color drained from my face. I vetoed his hiring on the spot. When Amelia found out, she exploded. We had the worst fight of our marriage. Seeing she was determined to hire him anyway, I told her I was resigning. And I wanted a divorce. She stared at me, her face a mask of disbelief. “Because of a tattoo? Julian, we don’t have a policy against tattoos!” The project manager himself, Adrian, stepped forward. “If the tattoo bothers you, I can have it removed.” “See?” Amelia pleaded. “He’s being more than reasonable. Stop making a scene.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Fine. As long as you sign the divorce papers, you can give him the whole damn company for all I care.” … My words hit Amelia like a physical blow. “Julian, I know you’re upset that I’m putting him in your position, but you’re the one who said you’d do anything to save this company!” she shot back, her voice shaking with frustration. “You were on board with this yesterday. What is your problem now?!” She looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. I didn’t offer an explanation. I just repeated my ultimatum, my voice cold and flat. “If you hire him, we get a divorce.” I watched her, my eyes fixed on her face, searching for any flicker of the woman I’d married. Before today, Amelia and I were the couple everyone envied—the model of a perfect partnership. We always chose each other, even when business and personal interests collided. But today, she wasn’t budging. Not an inch. After a long, tense silence, she tried to reason with me again, her tone softening. “Julian, please. Adrian is incredibly talented. With him, we can pull the company out of this crisis. It’s not about the tattoo. We don’t have rules against things like that, you know that.” I nodded slowly as a flicker of relief crossed her face. Then I pulled out my phone. I made a call. “I need a divorce agreement drawn up,” I said into the receiver. “Have it messengered to my office. Now.” Amelia’s face froze. The air in the room turned to ice. Finally, Adrian broke the silence. “Mr. Hayes,” he said, his voice smooth and conciliatory. “To be honest, this tattoo has special meaning to me. I got it with my first love.” He paused, then added with a sigh, as if making a great sacrifice, “But if you’re this opposed to it, I’ll have it removed. However…” He let the word hang in the air. “If I’m not welcome here, I’m not so desperate for a job that I have to stay.” That was all it took. Amelia snapped. “That’s enough, Julian!” she cried, her voice cracking. “This company isn’t just yours to throw away! I won’t let you! Adrian turned down every other offer to come back here and work for us. How can you be so cruel?” Her voice rose, taking on a righteous edge. “Think about our employees! They have families to feed! Even if you want to fight with me, can’t you at least consider them?” At her words, the employees who had been trying to fade into the background suddenly found their voices. “Amelia’s right. The company’s in trouble. Why won’t Mr. Hayes agree?” “I’ve been here three years. I’ve seen enough of their PDA to last a lifetime, but I’ve never seen them fight like this.” “You think he’s just afraid of being replaced? Is that why he’s being so dramatic?” I heard that and felt a muscle in my jaw twitch. Of course, not everyone was against me. “I don’t think Director Hayes is like that,” someone countered. “He’s always been good to us, never pulled rank. Maybe there’s something else going on.” “That doesn’t matter!” another shot back. “Whatever his personal issue is, the company has to come first. Amelia is working herself to the bone, and he’s throwing a tantrum. Men…” They didn’t bother to lower their voices, making sure Amelia heard every word. It was obvious who they thought held the power, who they needed to please. But they had no idea. Without me, Amelia’s company would have crashed and burned years ago. And I hadn’t forgotten the flicker of guilt on Amelia’s face the first time I mentioned the tattoo. She had made her choice. Now, I would stick to mine. Just then, Amelia’s voice cut through the gossip. “Quiet!” she snapped. “Have you all forgotten? You will show Julian the same respect you show me. Always.” She turned back to me, her expression softening. “Okay, stop this,” she said, her voice gentle, almost cooing. “Julian, I promise you, no one is going to threaten your position here. Let’s just get Adrian onboarded, and we can talk about the rest at home.” I looked at her, but the man who loved her was gone. All that was left was ice. “No need. Once the lawyer gets here with the papers, we’ll be done.” I turned to go back to my office and pack my things. Behind me, there was a loud crash as something hit the floor. “Julian! Don’t push me!” Amelia’s voice was dangerously low. “If you can’t see what’s important right now, then you can go home and think about it. When you’ve come to your senses, you can come back.” I heard the threat, the raw power play in her words, but I didn’t turn around. She still thought I was bluffing. She even had security escort me out so I wouldn’t interfere with Adrian’s paperwork. A humorless smile touched my lips. I left, just as she wanted. Back home, I went straight to our photo albums and found Amelia’s college pictures. There it was. A butterfly tattoo on her wrist, a perfect match to the one on Adrian’s. A couple’s tattoo. I remembered asking her about it once. I’d seen a similar design at the construction site where my father had his accident. She’d brushed it off, saying she’d just thought it looked cool and had slapped on a temporary one for fun. I’d had my doubts, but when I checked her wrist, there was no trace of ink, so I’d let it go. Now, I flipped to her graduation photo. And there he was, standing a few feet away from her in the class picture. Adrian. My blood ran cold. I picked up the phone. “I need you to look into something for me.” Shortly after I hung up, the lawyer arrived with the divorce agreement. He also brought the share transfer documents I’d requested. If we were divorcing, we were settling everything. I had no intention of staying with the firm; selling my shares was the cleanest break. I was on the phone with a couple of the older board members when Amelia came home. Trailing right behind her, carrying a suitcase, was Adrian. She saw me looking and offered a bright, brittle smile. “Adrian just got back to the country and hasn’t found a place yet. I told him he could stay with us for a few days. You don’t mind, do you?” The sheer audacity of it was almost funny. She brings him into our home and then asks for my opinion? Did she think I had amnesia? We had just had a marriage-ending fight at the office a few hours ago, and here she was, acting as if nothing had happened. When I didn't answer, she walked over to me. “Are you still mad about what happened at the office?” she asked softly. “Come on, honey. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do anything to make this right. Okay?” Her voice was a velvet purr, her eyes full of promises. A year ago, a week ago, that would have been enough to melt my anger away. Not today. “Sign the divorce papers,” I said, my voice flat. “Then you can hire him, move him in, do whatever you want. It will have nothing to do with me.” Amelia fell silent, at a loss for words. Adrian, ever the helpful observer, stepped in. “Amelia, I hate to interfere in your personal life, but I can’t just stand by and watch this. You’re humbling yourself for him, and he’s being completely unreasonable. He’s just being petty.” He shot a pointed look at me. “You’re doing what’s best for the company. He doesn’t see it now, but he will once things turn around.” He was trying to poison her against me right to my face, a smug, challenging look in his eyes. Amelia just frowned, not responding to him. She looked at me. “Julian, that’s enough. I have a mountain of problems to deal with at the office. I don’t have time for these games.” “Fine,” I nodded. “Let me know when you’re ready to be serious.” I picked up the suitcase I had already packed. Her face hardened, her patience completely gone. “Julian, if you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back.” I glanced at her one last time, a detached smile on my face. That was the plan. I left our house and drove to the small apartment I grew up in. My father had bought it when I was in school. It was modest, but it was warm, filled with memories I cherished. After he died, I could never bring myself to sell it, but I hadn't been able to face coming back here, either. A thick layer of dust covered everything. It took me hours to clean the place. Just as I finished, I got a text from Amelia. [You want a divorce? Fine. My office. Tomorrow. 2 PM.] I frowned. It felt wrong. She’d changed her mind too quickly. Was it a trap? There was only one way to find out. The next day, when I arrived at the office, Amelia’s secretary blocked my path. “Amelia is in a meeting with Director Adrian about work. She said she’s not to be disturbed unless it’s urgent.” I used to walk into her office without ever knocking. It was true what they said. When the first love returns, everyone else has to get out of the way. But for me, this wasn’t about love anymore. It was about finding the truth behind my father’s death. “Okay,” I said, turning to leave. Just then, a ripple of laughter came from inside the office. It didn’t sound like they were talking business. It sounded like they were flirting. The door swung open, and Adrian stepped out. “Ah, Julian. You’re here. Amelia has been waiting for you.” I gave him a cold look and started to walk past him. As I did, he leaned in and whispered, his voice dripping with malice. “You must be dying to know how your father really died, aren't you?” I whipped my head around to see the taunting smirk on his face. My fists had been clenched since the moment I saw his tattoo. I had planned to wait, to gather all my evidence before I made a move. But he had just crossed a line. I didn’t hesitate. I swung, my fist connecting with his jaw. The secretary screamed. I hit him again. As I drew my arm back for a third punch, Amelia rushed out and shoved me away. She helped Adrian to his feet, her face dark with fury. “What is going on?” Adrian, looking the very picture of innocence, stammered, “I was just trying to ask him to speak with you calmly, and he just… he just started hitting me.” The words were barely out of his mouth before Amelia’s hand cracked across my face. “Have you lost your mind?” she hissed. “Apologize. Now. This is a place of business, not your personal playground.” Apologize to him? Not in this lifetime. I wasn’t just going to make him apologize. I was going to send him to prison. But I couldn’t say that yet. It would tip my hand, give him a chance to run. Adrian, ever the bigger man, said, “It’s okay, Amelia. It’s understandable that Mr. Hayes wouldn’t accept me. I’ll just get back to work. You two should talk.” The more reasonable he acted, the more unhinged I appeared. Once he was gone, Amelia glared at me. “In my office.” I walked in and dropped the divorce papers on her desk. “Sign it.” She ignored them. “So, after a night to cool off, this is still what you want? To throw our marriage away?” It was clear then. She hadn’t called me here to sign anything. A cold laugh escaped me. “What do you really want, Amelia?” “Julian, everything I’m doing is for the company. I don’t want to fight with you. Just move back home, and we can pretend none of this ever happened.” Without a word, I picked up the papers and turned to leave. “Wait!” She finally relented. “Fine. You want me to sign? Then you need to be at the new product launch tomorrow.” A product launch? This was the first I’d heard of it. It had to be something she and Adrian had cooked up. And if they wanted me there, it wasn’t for a good reason. Whatever they were planning, I’d find out tomorrow. The next day, the venue was swarming with reporters. Amelia’s company had done well over the years, and its recent troubles had made it a hot topic. Rumors were flying that the place was cursed. We hadn't made any public statements. Until today. Amelia took the stage and addressed the crowd, a series of photos flashing on the screen behind her—pictures of me, looking stressed, meeting with various people over the last few weeks. “The reason our company is facing a crisis,” she announced, her voice filled with practiced sorrow, “is because my husband, Julian Hayes, leaked confidential company secrets.” I had braced myself for something, but even so, the bald-faced lie was stunning. For a moment, I just felt a strange urge to laugh. Our eyes met across the room. Her look was clear: This is your punishment for being difficult. A cold fire burned in my chest. She had no idea what was coming. She looked away, her expression turning to one of deep sadness. “I don’t know why he would do this, but we have terminated his position and brought on a new, brilliant project manager. We are very excited for the future!”
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