I’d just wrapped a six-month stint overseas, landing back in New York just in time for our anniversary. My first stop was Auden & Co. on Fifth Avenue; I wanted to get my wife, Ava, something special, a custom timepiece to mark the occasion. The sales associate, a man who’d known us for years, smiled warmly. “Mr. Blackwood, it seems you and Ms. Ava are perfectly in sync. She was just in yesterday and bought a matching pair herself. An early anniversary gift, she said.” The words hit me like a physical blow. I froze. An image flashed in my mind: her assistant, Leo, posted a picture on his Instagram story last night. On his wrist was the distinctive band of an Auden & Co. watch. His caption was a brazen little smirk in text form: *She said my time is hers now. ;) * I pulled out my phone, my fingers numb as I dialed Ava’s number. It rang twice before a man’s voice, thick with sleep and irritation, answered. “Yeah? Who’s this? It’s the middle of the night.” A pause, a yawn. “Look, the boss just finished up, she’s in the shower. Call back tomorrow.” A bitter, humorless laugh escaped my lips. “Who am I? I’m her husband.” I let that sink in. “Tell her she’s fired. And so are you. Don’t bother coming into the office tomorrow.” 1 I hung up before he could respond and turned to my own assistant, who was waiting by the car. “Notify security,” I said, my voice flat. “As of tomorrow, Ava Blackwood and Leo Cruz are not permitted on Apex Innovations property. And get our lawyers on the phone. Freeze all assets in her name. I want divorce papers drawn up.” He nodded, his face a mask of professional discretion, and disappeared into the evening traffic. I had the driver take me home, the weight of the last six months pressing down on me, now compounded by a betrayal so sharp it felt like a shard of glass in my gut. I walked into our bedroom, the scent of her perfume still lingering in the air. Then I imagined Leo in this room, in our bed, and a wave of nausea washed over me. I turned around and walked down the hall to the guest room. … The next day, I slept until the afternoon. When I finally woke, my phone buzzed incessantly for a full minute as a deluge of notifications came through. The screen was a wall of missed calls and over a hundred messages from Ava. They started last night with cautious, almost gentle inquiries, then escalated to furious, frantic demands by morning. I cleared them all with a single tap. After a brief call with my assistant, I showered and went downstairs for lunch. Before I could even sit, our housekeeper, Maria, approached hesitantly, holding out her phone. “Mr. Blackwood, it’s Mrs. Blackwood. She insists on speaking with you.” The meal wasn’t ready yet, so I took the phone. I didn’t even have a chance to say hello before her voice, shrill and furious, erupted from the speaker. “Ethan! What the hell is your problem? Do you have any idea how humiliated I was today?!” The hard-won peace from a rare full night’s sleep evaporated. The rage I’d suppressed last night came roaring back. “Watch your tone, Ava,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “Your public image is the least of your problems right now. And if you ever speak to me like that again, I promise you, your reputation will be the first of many things you lose.” I hung up. A few minutes later, the phone rang again. This time, her voice was still tight with anger, but it was strained, reined in. “Ethan, I went to the office this morning. Security wouldn’t let me in. They said I was terminated. What’s going on?” I picked a single, out-of-place sunflower from the vase on the dining table, its bright, cheerful face a mockery. “It’s exactly what it sounds like,” I said calmly. “I put you in charge of Apex because I was out of the country. Now I’m back. It’s only natural that you step aside.” “And Leo?” she shot back, her voice rising. “He beat out dozens of candidates for that job. You’re firing him just because he didn’t kiss your ass on the phone?” My voice turned to ice. “Him? I don’t recall hiring an assistant whose job description included wearing matching watches with my wife and sleeping in my bed.” Silence. Then, a stammer. “You… you know?” “The watch was a corporate bonus for his performance,” she said, the words rushing out in a defensive torrent. “And he stayed over because the storm was terrible. Our house is halfway up the mountain, you can’t get a car service up here in that weather. But he slept on the couch! Nothing happened!” I cut her off, my voice devoid of emotion. “And last night?” “Last night was nothing! We had to entertain clients, we got two separate rooms. The shower in his room was broken, so he used mine. Honestly, Ethan, are you serious? The kid asked you who you were, you cursed him out and threatened his job. I’m a married woman. It’s not like that between us.” A dry, harsh laugh escaped me. “Please, Ava. Don’t treat me like a child. A storm, and our driver couldn’t take him home? A broken shower in a five-star hotel, and he couldn’t just call the front desk for a new room? Did you really think because I was in a different time zone, I was blind?” The reports from my private investigator burned in my memory. The cold fury in my chest intensified. “The first month I was gone, you bought him a three-million-dollar condo near the office. Three months ago, it was a new Porsche. Last month, you used the company jet for a ‘business trip’ to the Maldives. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think I was a fucking idiot, Ava?!” The words came out like venom. I was done playing games. “He will return the car and sign the deed to that condo back over to me,” I said, each word a block of ice. “Or he’s going to prison, and you’re going to walk out of this marriage with nothing but the clothes on your back.” She tried to backtrack. “I didn’t give them to him, they were just… on loan. Besides, you know how much your mother wants a grandchild. If we get divorced…” “You think I care?” I interrupted coldly. “The only reason you’re not getting served with divorce papers this very second is because adultery isn’t a crime. Don’t push me.” I ended the call, leaving her in the ringing silence. 2 After lunch, I skipped the office and headed to the gym in the basement, spending the next few hours working out until my muscles screamed and my mind was blessedly empty. The next morning, I walked into my office, feeling the clean burn of exertion, ready to take back the reins of my company. The sight that greeted me sent a fresh surge of adrenaline and fury through my veins. My wife, Ava, was on the sofa, pinned beneath her assistant, Leo. They scrambled apart the moment I entered. Ava pushed him off her, her face a mask of panic. “Ethan! I can explain!” Leo tumbled to the floor, crying out as his elbow smacked the corner of the glass coffee table. But Ava didn’t even glance at him. Her eyes were locked on me, wide with desperation. “It’s not what it looks like! He twisted his ankle and fell on me, I swear!” “Shut up,” I said. The words were quiet, but they cut through her frantic explanation like a razor. I sidestepped her as she reached for my arm. “Who let you in? I made it perfectly clear you were both terminated.” My assistant appeared in the doorway, followed by a trembling receptionist. “Mr. Blackwood,” the young woman stammered, her face pale. “I tried to stop them, but Ms. Blackwood and Mr. Cruz refused to leave the lobby. When the representatives from OmniCorp arrived for the meeting, she said she knew them and just walked in with their group. I… I didn’t know what to do.” I took a deep breath, trying to control the violent tremor in my hands. “It’s not your fault,” I said, waving them away. “Go on.” Once they were gone, I ignored Ava’s pleading gaze and began to survey my office. My office. The air was thick with a cloying cologne I despised. On the credenza where a framed photo of Ava and me once sat, there was now a small, tacky glass sculpture of a sun. And hanging in my private closet was a man’s jacket that was not mine. Leo, still on the floor, began to sob, a theatrical, self-pitying sound. “Mr. Blackwood, please don’t misunderstand. There’s nothing between me and Ava. The jacket… I just forgot to take it home with me last time.” Ava moved to stand in front of him, a lioness protecting her cub. “That’s enough, Ethan. He’s just a kid. Stop trying to intimidate him. His clothes got soaked in the rain one day, so I had a new jacket delivered for him. I only brought him here today to collect his personal things. You can’t just fire someone and not let them get their belongings… Ah! What are you doing?!” Crack. The sharp, clean sound of a slap echoed in the silent office. I had pushed past her, and the blow that landed on Leo’s face cut off the rest of her sentence. “Ethan, what the hell are you doing?!” she screamed, her voice raw with fury. “Why did you hit him?!” I turned to her, my expression unreadable, and slapped her too. My gaze was pure contempt. “Why him? Did you think you were exempt?” I said, my voice dangerously low. “He opens his mouth and feeds me lies, he should expect the consequences. And you… you let him.” 3 We had a meeting with a partner firm on the top floor later. The sight of Leo crying while covering his face and Ava sporting a fresh handprint on her cheek was not exactly professional. I looked at Ava, my voice cold. "Are you going to continue this pathetic scene here, or are you coming home with me?" Her face was a mask of fury, but she finally bit out a "Fine," and followed me. In the parking garage, she took the keys and got into the driver's seat. Just as I was about to get in, Leo darted forward and tried to open the passenger door. "Get out," I snarled. "My car doesn't carry parasites." "Ethan! That's a horrible thing to say!" Ava snapped, frowning at me. I laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "Horrible? He has the nerve to sleep with a married woman, but he's too delicate to be called a name?" Leo immediately adopted a wounded, innocent expression. "I was just offering to drive… to help you clear up this misunderstanding. I never wanted to cause any trouble between you." I didn't even look at him. My eyes were locked on Ava. The silent pressure was too much. She finally got out, walked around the car, and pulled Leo away from the door. "Just take a cab," she said, her voice tight. "I'll reimburse you." He slunk away, looking back with a resentful glare. I didn't want the staff to witness the drama, so as soon as we got home, I led Ava straight upstairs. She must have thought we were going to the bedroom, but I walked right past it, toward my study. She rushed ahead to block the door, her voice laced with anxiety. "Why don't we talk somewhere else? You've been gone so long, the study must be incredibly dusty." I ignored her, pushed her aside, and opened the door. The scene inside sent a wave of hot, blinding rage through me. My father’s portrait was on the floor, the glass cracked. On top of it was a small, dark, and unmistakable pile of animal feces. The desk and the floor around it were littered with scattered files, stained with dried, yellow patches of what I knew was urine. The air was thick with the foul, sharp stench of it. I gagged, my voice trembling with fury. "Who did this?"
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