Sorry, Mr. Stanford, Your Wife Owns You - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
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Anne locked eyes with me, her lips curling into a sneer. "Planning to throw your weight around as the CEO's wife? Save it."
She leaned in, venom dripping from her words. "Face it, Mrs. President—that's a title you'll never hold. Let me spell it out for you: Mr. Stanford's been done with you for ages. A man like him? He deserves someone a thousand times more accomplished than you."
Her smirk widened. "In his eyes, you're not even worth the janitor's paycheck."
That triumphant glint in her eyes confirmed my suspicions.
Leonard had someone else. And no, it wasn't Anne Savoy.
Sure, she was competent—but she lacked the financial clout to be a real threat.
If Leonard was replacing me, it'd have to be with someone who brought serious advantages to the table.
Good luck with that. Nobody in this company could outmatch me.
Seeing me lower my gaze, Anne mistook my silence for fear. "What, scared now? Too late for that," she taunted. "A divorced housewife with no husband to bankroll her? Pathetic."
Now that got my attention.
The way she gloated, you'd think Leonard's new choice was already crowned queen.
Which only made me more curious—who was this so-called perfect woman?
Anne wouldn't come at me this hard without a push from someone. Were they hoping I'd just step aside and hand over my position?
Cute plan. Too bad they forgot one thing: the Stanford family still had a say.
I met her arrogance with a cold stare. "Leonard hasn't even filed for divorce, Anne, and you're already celebrating? Careful—you might be the one leaving embarrassed."
She barked a laugh. "Nicole, spare us the act. Cooperate with the search and get out. Unless you want Mr. Stanford to humiliate you himself."
Her arms crossed, sharp as a blade. "Search her!"
My voice cut through the room. "Try it."
"Problem?" A familiar voice rang from the doorway.
The conference room froze. Chairs scraped as everyone shot to their feet.
Leonard.
Whispers slithered through the crowd:
"Let's see how long she lasts now."
"Please, everyone knows he never cared about her. She was disposable from day one."
"Pretty faces are a dime a dozen. She's nothing compared to her."
He strode in, all polished edges and icy confidence, his hair catching the light like a damn magazine cover. Hands tucked casually in his pockets, he didn't spare a glance at the gawking crowd.
Anne scrambled back, flashing him a sycophantic smile.
He stopped inches from me, his voice devoid of warmth.
"Name your terms, Nicole. Whatever you want for the divorce."
I held his gaze. "You sure Grandpa Stanford's on board with this?"
She leaned in, venom dripping from her words. "Face it, Mrs. President—that's a title you'll never hold. Let me spell it out for you: Mr. Stanford's been done with you for ages. A man like him? He deserves someone a thousand times more accomplished than you."
Her smirk widened. "In his eyes, you're not even worth the janitor's paycheck."
That triumphant glint in her eyes confirmed my suspicions.
Leonard had someone else. And no, it wasn't Anne Savoy.
Sure, she was competent—but she lacked the financial clout to be a real threat.
If Leonard was replacing me, it'd have to be with someone who brought serious advantages to the table.
Good luck with that. Nobody in this company could outmatch me.
Seeing me lower my gaze, Anne mistook my silence for fear. "What, scared now? Too late for that," she taunted. "A divorced housewife with no husband to bankroll her? Pathetic."
Now that got my attention.
The way she gloated, you'd think Leonard's new choice was already crowned queen.
Which only made me more curious—who was this so-called perfect woman?
Anne wouldn't come at me this hard without a push from someone. Were they hoping I'd just step aside and hand over my position?
Cute plan. Too bad they forgot one thing: the Stanford family still had a say.
I met her arrogance with a cold stare. "Leonard hasn't even filed for divorce, Anne, and you're already celebrating? Careful—you might be the one leaving embarrassed."
She barked a laugh. "Nicole, spare us the act. Cooperate with the search and get out. Unless you want Mr. Stanford to humiliate you himself."
Her arms crossed, sharp as a blade. "Search her!"
My voice cut through the room. "Try it."
"Problem?" A familiar voice rang from the doorway.
The conference room froze. Chairs scraped as everyone shot to their feet.
Leonard.
Whispers slithered through the crowd:
"Let's see how long she lasts now."
"Please, everyone knows he never cared about her. She was disposable from day one."
"Pretty faces are a dime a dozen. She's nothing compared to her."
He strode in, all polished edges and icy confidence, his hair catching the light like a damn magazine cover. Hands tucked casually in his pockets, he didn't spare a glance at the gawking crowd.
Anne scrambled back, flashing him a sycophantic smile.
He stopped inches from me, his voice devoid of warmth.
"Name your terms, Nicole. Whatever you want for the divorce."
I held his gaze. "You sure Grandpa Stanford's on board with this?"
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