I am the elite "Separation Specialist" for high-society divorces. I’ve saved thousands of wealthy wives billions of dollars in marital assets by covertly convincing their husbands’ mistresses to walk away. On International Women's Day, a client walked into my office. She was dripping in diamonds and gold. Without a word, she nodded to her bodyguards. They began stacking bricks of cash from duffel bags onto my desk. They built a mountain of money right in front of me. "One million in cash, plus a one-million-dollar Black Card preload," she stated flatly. "There’s a ten-million-dollar bonus waiting for you if you succeed." I had never seen that much raw cash in my entire life. I couldn’t grin wide enough. My eyes were practically burning with dollar signs. "Rest assured, ma'am," I said, putting on my best professional charm. "I am the undisputed master of dissolving these... 'complications.' I will return your husband to you, guaranteed." She let out a sharp, cold snort. "You misunderstand me," she said, looking at me like I was an idiot. "I don't want you to get rid of a mistress." "I want you to convince the wife to sign the papers." Chapter 1 I sat there, letting her words sink in. I was stunned into silence. "Mrs. Chen," I said slowly, trying to maintain composure. "There must be some mistake. I handle anti-mistress mitigation. I don’t initiate divorces for the 'other woman.'" She buffed her manicured gold nails, an insufferable smirk on her face. "You people run such a small-time operation. You lack vision. A man's heart is wherever his money is flowing." "Besides, my husband loves me. The woman in his house is the real interloper ruining our relationship." "You have no idea how hard my life is. I have to spend my days at bridge clubs and high teas just to keep appearances. Meanwhile, that plain Jane house drudge he’s married to gets to work herself to the bone and hand over her whole paycheck to him." It was absolutely delusional. My profession might exist in a moral gray area, but I draw a hard line at actively destroying a family from the inside out. "Mrs. Chen, I’m sorry," I said, standing up. "We cannot accept this case. I recommend you seek services elsewhere." I started gesturing toward the door to usher her out. I make my living protecting marriages from women like her. I wasn’t about to hand her the matches to burn one down. An expression of utter disbelief crossed her face. She let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "You're just holding out for more money, aren't you? Pretty ballsy for a dump like this." "Just give me a straight answer. Are you taking the job or not?" Even though her tone was turning nasty, I kept a polite smile plastered on my face. "I apologize for the inconvenience, Mrs. Chen, but we are a firm pass. Deeply sorry." She rolled her eyes violently. "Look at you, standing there in your off-the-rack trash. You look like a stray dog. Stupid bitch, turning down real money." She grabbed a wad of cash from the table and hurled it directly at my face. Benjamins scattered across the floor like confetti. Not a single staff member in the room dared to move or make a sound. I clenched my fists, my temper flaring. "Get out," I said, my voice dropping an octave. "I have made myself very clear. You are not welcome in this establishment." She sat back down on the sofa, crossing her legs elegantly. "What? You think you're better than me?" "Let me tell you something, honey. Being 'the other woman' at this level takes real talent and hard work." "Look at that 'plain pig' face of yours. You’re so basic and homely, you couldn't even make it as an escort, let alone a high-end mistress." My polite facade shattered completely. I gave her a deadly, fake grin. "Out. Leave. You have three seconds before I call security to drag you out." Her eyes narrowed, a sneer twisting her lips. A sharp, deafening slap echoed through the room as her palm connected with my cheek. "Who the hell are you to tell me to get out?" "There is more money on that table than you will ever earn in ten lifetimes." "The customer is God, didn't you learn that? I’m demanding service today, and you’re going to give it to me." I glared at her through gritted teeth, clenching my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. "I am warning you one last time. Get. Out." She looked incredibly bored. "Are you thick? I said I’m not leaving until you help me." "Don't try to scare me. You wouldn't dare do a thing. Do you have any idea who my husband is? He’s Gabriel Thorne, the Chairman of Thorne Enterprises." Gabriel Thorne? Thorne Enterprises? Wasn't that my brother-in-law's name? Chapter 2 The news hit me like a physical blow. My brain was temporarily offline. Seeing me frozen in shock, she smirked triumphantly. "If you weren't reportedly the absolute best at what you do, I never would have set foot in this trashy office." I swallowed hard, ignoring her insults. "You claim your husband is Gabriel Thorne. Do you have any proof?" She rolled her eyes, radiating impatience. "Are you blind? Look at the millions on the table. Who else but Thorne Enterprises has this kind of loose capital?" I felt a sudden wave of relief wash over me. It had to be a common name. A coincidence. My brother-in-law wasn't wealthy. In fact, his small startup was barely keeping its head above water, only staying afloat because I secretly funneled my own salary to him through my sister. She pulled out her phone and displayed a photo. It was a picture of them kissing passionately. The breath was knocked right out of me again. I stared at that photo, searching for any inconsistency. It was him. Gabriel Thorne. My sister's husband. "Believe me now?" "He gives me a two-hundred-thousand-dollar monthly allowance." "His miserable 'starter wife' at home thinks he’s drowning in debt. She actually gives him her entire paycheck every month to 'help out.'" "Her sister is apparently a bigger idiot, too. Makes tons of money and gives it all to my Gabriel." The veins in my temples were throbbing violently. My expression went cold as ice. She couldn't read the room to save her life and kept blabbing, "The woman he lives with hasn't been able to produce an heir in ten years of marriage. I’ve been with him for one year and I’m already pregnant." "His wife is the one interloping on our little family of three." I forced a tight, sickening smile. "It's just a photo. Anyone with basic Photoshop skills could doctor that. Do you have any real evidence?" The moment the words left my mouth, she slammed her teacup onto the floor. Hot tea and porcelain shards exploded everywhere. "Give you an inch and you take a mile! You are testing my patience." I needed to be sure. I signaled another consultant to keep her occupied. I ran to the restroom. With shaking hands, I text the photo to a friend who is a forensic image specialist. His reply came back within minutes. The verdict: The photo was completely authentic. Zero signs of digital manipulation. I immediately posted the picture into our family group chat, tagging my sister. Immediately, the notifications started blowing up from aunts, uncles, and cousins. [Gabe would never do this. This has to be a deepfake, right?] [The lighting is all wrong. Sarah must be pranking us with an AI generator.] [Sarah’s always had a streak of malice in her. She’s just being vicious.] [I heard she has a dirty job in the big city. She’s gone bad.] My extended family tore me to shreds, calling me everything but a child of God. I kept typing through the tears, my fingers numb. [It is not Photoshopped. A professional authenticated it.] [The mistress is in my office right now. And apparently, she’s pregnant...] My oldest aunt posted a message that felt like a slap. [Isn't Sarah supposed to be some ace anti-mistress specialist? Why doesn't she just do her job and handle it quietly? Unless... are you just trying to blow up their marriage because you're jealous of how happy they are?] A few moments later, my mother called me. "Sarah, get some therapy. You are sick. Why are you fabricating this disgusting lie against your brother-in-law?" "Are you just envious that your sister married well?" "I wish you were dead. All you do is try to destroy your sister's happiness." Rage boiled up inside me. "Gabriel is actually cheating. I am not breaking up his marriage." "Remember the fifty thousand dollars I gave her for her dowry? And I've basically paid off his business debt with my salary every month for years." My mother let out a cold laugh through the phone. "That was your responsibility as a sister. Aren't you supposed to be good at getting rid of these women? Go fix it, you liar. You were always lazy in school, now I see you’ve added compulsive liar to your résumé." "Tomorrow is the day Gabe’s company goes public. Do not ruin this for him with your nonsense." The line went dead. A deep chill settled in my chest. Gabriel said his company was bleeding money. My mother demanded I help him. I did, without question, for three years. Three years. Over two hundred thousand dollars of my money. 省 money? I woke up before dawn every day. I lived on ramen and canned soup. I lived in a dark, damp basement apartment for years, which messed up my joints from the humidity. And a simple "that was your responsibility" was the total erasure of all my sacrifice. Chapter 3 I didn't even make it out of the restroom before my mother and sister burst in. They must have rushed over the moment I posted the photo. "Sarah, are you trying to kill us with stress?" my mother screamed. "Your sister finally scored a golden goose, and you're trying to ruin it. You think everyone is beneath you just because you hang around with rich sluts?" My eyes were burning red with fury. "Mom, what do you mean by that? My reputation as a top-tier specialist is worthless to you?" "I hand over my paycheck to you every month. I live in poverty so you guys can live well, and in your eyes, that’s just my 'responsibility'?" "When she got married, you guys practically went bankrupt to buy her a condo." "But when I wanted to go to vocational school to learn a trade, you said I was wasting my time and wouldn't give me a single dime." "In all these years, what has she ever given you?" Before I could finish, my mother’s hand connected with my face. She shoved me so hard I hit the tile wall, staggering to keep my footing. "Your sister has a respectable, tenured job. She has a Ph.D. You have no right to compare yourself to her." "Look at you. You barely finished high school. It’s embarrassing to admit you’re my daughter." "You give us money because it’s your duty. Why should you get to make more money than her when you have no education, no background, and no looks?" I raised my head and looked at my sister. My mother was old, uneducated, and stubborn. I stopped trying to reason with her long ago. "And you, Rachel? Is this how you think of me, too?" Rachel crossed her arms, looking me up and down with obvious disdain. "Sarah, don't you think it's inappropriate to interfere in my marital affairs like this?" "I know you're an anti-mistress specialist. You're quick on your feet. Tell me... have you fallen for your own brother-in-law? Is that what this is about?" I clamped my jaw shut so hard my teeth ached. "Is that really what you think of me?" "Rachel, I paid your dowry. Mom, I paid your retirement insurance premiums." "You both told me his startup was failing, and I immediately turned over my savings and my debit card to you." "Every holiday, I buy you gifts I can’t afford myself." I forced the words out, one by one, through hot tears. "And this is the thanks I get? It’s just my 'duty'?" Rachel shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. "Sarah, aren't you just obsessed with money? You’ve always been a greedy, materialistic little bitch." "Our parents worked themselves to the bone to raise you. Honoring them is your responsibility." "In a few years, you need to quit this embarrassing job, get married, pop out some kids, and stop obsessing over your brother-in-law." I stared at my mother and sister with total disillusionment. This was the family I had sacrificed half my youth for. I simply told them the truth about Gabriel's infidelity, and in return, I was subjected to insult after insult. I took a job that wasn't as 'respectable' as Rachel's, and they used it as a weapon against me. I tried to explain my hurt, and they dismissed it as my 'duty.' It was bad enough that they disrespected my work, but they treated my financial support as an entitlement while fabricating lies that I desired my own brother-in-law. "As of today, you are not getting another dime from me." "Gabriel is cheating. That is a fact. Believe it or not, I don't care." Chapter 4 With that, I walked out. They would never receive another cent. My father called just as I stepped onto the main floor. After hesitating, I answered it. "Sarah, your mom... she’s just an old fool. Don’t take it to heart." "Dad believes you. You wouldn't make up something like this." "Dad............" The dam broke. I was hysterical, pouring out years of suppressed hurt to my father over the phone. Finally, one family member understood. Someone who didn't look down on my profession, someone who didn't think I was just fulfilling an obligation. There was a long silence on the other end. "Sarah, just find a decent man and get married. Stop worrying about your brother-in-law." "That job of yours... it's a young woman's game. Who’s going to hire an old anti-mistress specialist?" "I think big Miller at the hardware store in town is a good match. His son is divorced, but he agreed to a fifteen-hundred-dollar bride price." My throat felt like it was filled with cement. I couldn't make a sound. "No." I let out a cold, sharp laugh and hung up. It felt like a giant boulder was crushing my chest, making it difficult to breathe. My father was ready to sell me off for fifteen hundred dollars. I had given this family at least three hundred thousand. Fifteen hundred dollars to buy off the rest of my life’s earning potential, just to ease their minds. At the end of the day, they all just thought I was lying to get closer to Gabriel. I didn't say another word to anyone. I walked back into the consultation room. Mrs. Chen—or whatever her real name was—marched over to me and poked her finger hard into my chest. "Is this how you treat paying clients? By vanishing?" My expression was absolute granite. I was dead inside. "Why haven't you left? I said I don't handle mistresses." "Get the hell out. Now!" Her eyes flashed with homicidal rage. "Don't you talk to me like that, you trash." "If you don't get on your knees and apologize right now, I will smash this ugly office to the ground." I clenched my fists. "I have nothing to apologize for. You are an interloper destroying a family." A loud crack echoed. She slapped me again. Harder this time. Both my cheeks were burning with scarlet handprints. "If I hadn't given you this opportunity, someone like you wouldn't even be qualified to look at me." "Since you’re being so stubborn, I’ll grant your wish." "Gideon, smash everything." Over the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood, I dropped to the floor and watched ten years of my life’s work turn into a heap of garbage. I stood up, beyond caring. I grabbed her by the hair and slapped her across the face three times, as hard as I could. "You will never be anything but a pathetic, kept secret." I know exactly how society treats women like her. If I exposed her online. She would be public enemy number one. She lunged at me, clawing at my hair. We tumbled onto the floor, screaming and tearing at each other. Sharp nails ripped into my flesh. Suddenly, a massive force booted me in the ribs. I tumbled across the floor, my black hair masking my face. She scrambled away, crawling into Gabriel Thorne’s arms, weeping hysterically. "Gabriel, honey, she insulted me and attacked me!" He stroked her hair, his voice soothing but deadly. "It's okay, babe. I'll get justice for you." His expensive dress shoe pressed down hard onto my hand. "This dump is closed permanently. Destroy it all. If it can't be smashed, douse it in paint." His assistants worked efficiently. Within minutes, my life’s work was a total ruin. As he turned to leave, he kicked me one last time in the ribs. "Crazy bitch. 'Elite Specialist'? Please. You’re more pathetic than that plain Jane slob I live with’s sister." "Trash. Later tonight, I might just sell you to a trafficking ring in Tijuana." I reached out and grabbed his pant leg, pulling my hair out of my face to look at him. "Gabriel Thorne. Say that again. I dare you."
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