The Day I Stopped Being the Nice Wife - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

The next morning, Caleb stood in front of the mirror, meticulously adjusting his tie. Today wasn't just another day—it was the culmination of years of relentless effort. Sleep had eluded him the night before, his mind buzzing with anticipation. Every late night, every sacrifice, every step had led to this moment. Yet the irony wasn't lost on him: his future hinged on a will and a marriage contract, not just his own merit.
The handover ceremony loomed large, and Caleb felt a childlike excitement bubbling in his chest—like unwrapping a hard-earned gift. He grinned at his reflection. This was his time.
Descending the grand staircase, he found his mother, Rose, waiting with a proud smile. "You look incredible, Caleb," she said, warmth radiating from her voice.
"Stella will be here any minute. She's so happy for you," Rose added.
"Thanks, Mom," Caleb replied, forcing a grin. Today was his day, and he refused to let his mother or Stella sour it.
His stomach twisted when he spotted Jane lingering nearby, a silent reminder of last night's encounter. She offered him a small, reassuring smile and a nod.
Lillian, ever the instigator, couldn't resist teasing. "Oh, look—he's blushing!" she crowed, eyes dancing with mischief.
Caleb's stern mask slipped just enough to crack a smile. "Have a good day," he said, turning to leave—until Lillian called after him. "Today's a big deal for all of us. You're really going to walk out without your wife?"
He'd seen Jane, sure, but the charade of their marriage had slipped his mind. With an inward sigh, he turned back. "I'm in a hurry," he muttered, but strode toward her anyway.
Pulling her close, he caught the flicker of fear in her eyes. "Why are you here?" he whispered.
"Your sister insisted I join them for dinner. Apparently, I'm 'not furniture' and shouldn't hide in my room all day," Jane whispered back.
"Stay out of trouble." Before she could retort, Caleb silenced her with a quick, dismissive peck on the lips. She stood frozen, humiliation staining her cheeks, as he walked out the door and into the waiting car.
The drive to headquarters was quiet, giving Caleb time to steel himself. He hadn't rehearsed a speech—overpreparing could backfire, and the last thing he needed was to stumble under the spotlight.
At the office, a sea of faces greeted him: employees, board members, all gathered in the grand lobby. The ceremony would take place in the executive conference room, its floor-to-ceiling windows framing the city skyline like a trophy.
Caleb was ushered to the front, where a mahogany table held the fateful documents. The room hushed as he entered, every eye locked on him.
Xavier stood by the table, his neutral expression betraying tension. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, voice steady, "today marks a pivotal moment for Lockwood Enterprises. Before we proceed, let's acknowledge Caleb's recent marriage—a new ###Chapter personally and professionally."
Gasps rippled through the room before applause erupted. Caleb nodded graciously, absorbing the congratulations.
Xavier continued, "For years, I've steered this company. But as per my late brother Robert's will, leadership now passes to Caleb." Another round of applause. "However, fairness demands a shareholder vote."
The boardroom tensed, murmurs swelling as votes were cast. Caleb stood rigid, heart pounding, until—
The screen behind Xavier flickered to life, blaring a headline: "Caleb Lockwood Rekindles Romance with First Love Stella Rosman!" A video played, showing Caleb embracing Stella outside her apartment late at night.
Cold sweat prickled Caleb's neck. The footage was years old—so why resurface now?
Whispers exploded:
"Didn't he just get married?"
"Can we trust a man like this?"
Xavier's shock melted into something smug. "Care to explain?"
Caleb stepped forward, voice unwavering. "This video is ancient history—from before my father's death. That relationship ended long ago." He scanned the room. "My commitment to Lockwood Enterprises is absolute. My personal life is stable, my marriage strong."
Silence. Then Xavier, oddly, vouched for him: "Caleb's dedication is undeniable. Records prove his loyalty."
The shareholders relented, refocusing on the vote. When the results confirmed Caleb as CEO, Xavier gestured to the documents. "Sign here, and the title is yours."
Caleb scrawled his name with finality. Xavier handed him the leather-bound CEO credentials, voice icy: "Congratulations. The company is yours."
Caleb faced the room, authority radiating. "Thank you. I'll honor our legacy while driving innovation." This time, the applause was thunderous—employees visibly relieved to be free of Xavier's shadow.
Pride surged through Caleb. This was his victory, tangible and hard-won.
Later, as the crowd thinned, Caleb cornered Xavier. "Did you have a hand in this?"
Xavier feigned innocence. "Why would I sabotage my own nephew?"
Caleb's jaw tightened. "Then who?"
"Ask yourself who benefits from your downfall." Xavier's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Congratulations, Caleb. Hope you're ready for the weight of this role."
"More than ready," Caleb shot back.
Xavier leaned in, voice a venomous whisper: "This is just nepotism. You're not fit to run a lemonade stand."
Caleb smirked. "In chess, Uncle, the king is the most powerful piece. Watch closely—you might learn something."
As stakeholders swarmed Caleb with congratulations, Xavier slipped away, firing off a text:
"Let's meet."