Donald Lawson drove to pick me up. He was a man known for his cold, almost ascetic demeanor. And yet, his new secretary was sitting in the passenger seat. In that moment, I knew. This marriage wasn’t going to last. 1 The day Donald came to pick me up, I pulled open the passenger side door and froze. A young, beautiful girl was sitting there, a sweet smile on her face. “Hello, Mrs. Lawson!” Her greeting was polite. But she made no move to get out and offer me the seat. My eyes narrowed slightly as I looked past her to Donald. He was on the phone, his gaze lowered, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension crackling in the car. We were supposed to be going to an auction together tonight. It was a date I’d been looking forward to, one I had dressed for with meticulous care. I never imagined his passenger seat would be occupied by someone else. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Lawson. My name is Lily Monroe. I’m Mr. Lawson’s new assistant.” The girl’s smile was warm, revealing two shallow dimples that made her look exceptionally sweet. “I heard you were going to a private auction tonight, and I begged Mr. Lawson to let me tag along and see what it’s like. Don’t worry, I promise I won’t be a bother.” My heart sank. I knew this cool, perfect man better than anyone. He maintained a careful distance from everyone. He didn’t let people into his space easily. Our marriage had been an arrangement, a strategic alliance. We had weighed our options and chosen each other. Outsiders joked that I was signing up for a life of celibacy, a marriage in name only. But after we made it official, Donald would hold me with a surprising tenderness. In moments of passion, the corners of his eyes would flush red. “You are my wife,” he’d once told me. “We are one. You are different from everyone else.” Today, it seemed, something had changed. 2 But I’m not some wilting flower who swallows her pride. I’m Vera Harrison, a woman who has never needed to check someone’s expression before getting angry. “Get out.” My voice was ice, my face a mask. I offered no pleasantries. The girl stared at me, stunned. She clearly hadn’t expected me to be so blunt, to humiliate her so openly upon our first meeting. My tone was so harsh that Lily seemed completely at a loss. “I… I’m sorry, Mrs. Lawson.” Her voice trembled, on the verge of tears, as she scrambled into the back seat. Donald had just finished his call and looked over at us, finally sensing the atmosphere. He realized I was angry. A look of weary indulgence spread across his face. He leaned over, clicking my seatbelt into place for me. I noticed the seat had been adjusted—moved forward. Annoyance flared through me, sharp and hot, and I impatiently readjusted everything back to my settings. By the time I was done, I was seething. “This is ridiculous! Who dares to change the settings on my seat?” The air in the car turned frigid. The girl in the back was so frightened she didn't dare make a sound. Donald’s brow furrowed slightly. “If you’re not in the mood tonight, we can just go home,” he suggested, his voice calm. In the rearview mirror, I could see the woman silently crying. I was utterly fed up. “Lily, was it? I’m not in the mood anymore. You can call yourself a cab. Mr. Lawson and I are going home.” The girl’s face went pale. She looked helplessly at Donald. He offered her no rescue. Looking completely crushed, she got out of the car. 3 Donald would never undermine me in front of others. He was a master of emotional control. That’s why he suggested we go home. Whatever the issue, we would deal with it there. It was an unspoken rule we’d had for years. “She’s just a college grad, new to the professional world,” he said, pulling me into his arms once we were inside. “Why are you making such a big deal out of this?” “It’s the first time.” Donald looked confused. “What is?” “In all these years, this is the first time you’ve ever let another woman sit in your passenger seat.” He hadn’t expected that to be the reason. Everyone in our circle knew how exceptional Donald Lawson was. The number of women who desired him was countless. But he had always been impeccably self-disciplined, navigating a world of temptations without ever being swayed. A faint smile touched his lips, and he gently ruffled my hair. “I can’t believe I finally managed to make you jealous.” He leaned in to kiss me, his nose brushing against my cheek. “She’s my subordinate, Vera. Nothing more. There will never be anything else between us.” He cupped my face in his hands, his gaze locking with mine as he gave me his solemn promise. 4 A woman’s intuition is rarely wrong. Even though I had only met Lily once, my gut told me she had other ideas about her relationship with Donald. I thought my initial show of force would be enough to put her in her place. I was wrong. The necklace from the auction, the one that was supposed to be for me, appeared around her neck the very next day. Hannah, Donald’s chief assistant, sent me a photo and a screenshot of a social media post. In the photo, the crescent-moon diamond necklace rested against Lily’s pale skin, making her look even more delicate and lovely. Her eyes were swollen, but a small smile played on her lips. It seemed she’d had a good cry last night and received a rather generous gift as compensation. The screenshot was of Lily’s Instagram story: [The CEO says a girl has to stay strong even when she’s been wronged! Wiping my tears and getting back to it, sir! ?] The post was accompanied by a few determined-looking emojis and a picture of the necklace nestled in its box. For a moment, my blood ran cold. It’s embarrassing to admit, but her little performance provoked me so much that I almost lost my composure. It was an awful feeling, like finding a smear of dried blood on your favorite silk scarf. The feeling was new to me. My first instinct was to jump in my yellow Ferrari, push it to 110 mph, and slap that woman across the face. But then I looked at my own hands and realized that even considering such a cheap, scheming girl was beneath me. I made a call to Wendy at Hermès. Wendy’s voice was practically buzzing with excitement. “Mrs. Lawson, don’t you worry,” she promised. “Even if I have to clear out every boutique in New York, I will get the inventory together and have everything delivered to you today!” And so, that afternoon, before the workday was over, every single executive assistant and general office staffer at Lawson Corporation headquarters—all forty-six of them, everyone except Lily—received a generous gift from the CEO’s wife: a twelve-thousand-dollar Hermès necklace. While the individual price couldn’t compare to the two-hundred-thousand-dollar auction piece, the sheer volume of the gesture made a statement. It was a leveling of the playing field. Hannah handled the delivery with perfect finesse. Each recipient was instructed to post a picture on their social media with a specific caption: [The President's wife says every girl deserves better! #girlboss] The women were, of course, delighted to comply. As assistants, they were the nerve center of the company’s gossip mill. Who wouldn’t happily post a picture of a gift from the CEO’s wife? Some of the savvier ones even added their own flair: [Mrs. Lawson knows how to play the game!] Within half an hour, the entire company knew that the President’s wife had gifted them all Hermès necklaces. As for the reason why, the rumor mills were already churning at full capacity. Lily’s face was ashen. She looked deeply humiliated, and with red-rimmed eyes, she fled to the bathroom to take off the diamond necklace. Two colleagues who came in to touch up their makeup saw her and let out a knowing, derisive snort. Mortified, Lily lowered her head and hurried out, the sound of their unrestrained laughter following her. Her cheeks burned as she placed the necklace back in its box. She returned it to Donald, untouched. 5 Donald had just finished a video call with a partner. He looked up to see the girl, who had clearly been crying again, clutching the necklace box and staring miserably at her feet. “What’s wrong?” he asked, puzzled. Before Lily could speak, fresh tears began to fall. She sobbed softly, the picture of pitiable grief. “Mr. Lawson, please, take this back. I can’t accept it.” A flicker of annoyance crossed Donald’s stern face. His instincts told him something had happened, but he didn’t press her. He just watched her, waiting. Lily bit her lip, hesitating, before finally telling him everything that had happened in the office that day. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Lawson. I’m always causing you trouble,” she whispered between sobs. “I just posted on my socials to try and cheer myself up. I don’t know how Mrs. Lawson found out about it.” She looked up at him, as helpless as a cornered rabbit. “I didn’t think she would be so angry… Mr. Lawson, I want to apologize to her. I can explain everything to her face-to-face.” Donald never looked at social media. His life was consumed by work. But as the CEO of a massive corporation, he was all too familiar with the vicious rumor mill. His already stern expression grew even colder. “I see,” he said, his voice low and heavy. 6 That evening, Donald brought Lily home. The girl stood timidly behind him. “I asked Lily to come so she could clear this up with you in person,” Donald said with a sigh. “Vera, Lily is just my secretary. As an apology for what happened yesterday, I gave her a gift. That’s all.” I stirred my spoon in the bird’s nest soup the housekeeper had prepared for me and finished the last sip. “Mrs. Lawson, I’m so sorry.” Lily’s apology was sincere as she bowed deeply. She looked frail and frightened. “It was the first time I’d ever received such an expensive gift. I got carried away. If I did something to upset you, please tell me. I’ll change, I promise!” I raised an eyebrow. “Lily Monroe, is it?” She glanced at Donald, as if seeking courage from him, before slowly nodding. The sight of her, like a naive calf trying to lock horns with me, was almost laughable. “I’m not your teacher, and I’m not your boss. I don’t have time to teach you how to behave,” I said, my voice cool. “But I am Donald Lawson’s wife. And if anyone dares to blur the lines with my husband, I won’t be giving them a second chance.” The girl had probably never encountered someone so direct in her life. Her face, already flushed with embarrassment, now just looked pitiful. “Vera, Lily came here to apologize,” Donald interjected. He knew my temperament and my methods. Even if he didn’t approve of my actions today, he understood why I did it. So instead of arguing, he had agreed to let Lily come and apologize. It was his concession, his attempt to clear the air. We were both intelligent people. A single look was enough to convey our meaning. “I understand,” I said, deciding to give Donald this one chance. After all, he hadn’t actually cheated. “But there won’t be a next time. Not with anyone.” 7 “You didn’t have to resort to those kinds of tactics to deal with a young girl,” Donald brought up later, before we went to sleep. “You should have told me first.” I sat at my vanity, brushing my hair, and met his eyes in the mirror. “You knew I liked that necklace, yet you gave it to another woman. Don’t I have a right to be angry?” I couldn’t imagine it. This perfect man… if he became tainted, could I still love him the way I did? Donald remained calm. He went to the bar and poured himself a glass of ice water. “She cried all night because of your misunderstanding,” he explained. “When I saw how swollen her eyes were this morning, I gave her the necklace as an apology. It was an impulsive gesture.” His story was flawless. I studied him for a long time, my expression cold. Two hundred thousand dollars was a trivial amount to us. Giving it away on a whim was plausible. It all depended on whether the recipient was worth it. His fingers tapped against the marble countertop. He was waiting for me to process his words. This was the first time a third party had caused a rift in our relationship. Our upbringing and refined sensibilities made us both weary of such drama. We were people who valued decorum. “Donald, I love you.” His fingers stilled. He clearly hadn't expected me to say that. “I love the untarnished version of you. That’s what sets you apart,” I said, my voice soft but firm. “You used to keep all women at a distance because you have a need for emotional purity, because you wanted a clean marriage. I wasn't always like that, but your values influenced me. Now, our goals are the same.” I held his gaze in the mirror. “I hope our marriage never has to face a crossroads.” “It won’t,” Donald said, a note of frustration in his voice. “I haven’t done anything.” 8 Donald was an exceptionally perceptive man. He knew I was bothered, and he wouldn’t give Lily any more room for delusion. Without the CEO’s favor, Lily, as an intern, was relegated to the most basic tasks. Before, she might have had a chance at the front desk rotation. Now, Hannah didn’t even put her on the schedule. I never told anyone to ostracize her. Since Donald understood my boundaries, I trusted him completely. But in a place like this, I didn’t need to give any orders. There were always people eager to curry favor with the powerful and trample on the weak. Within two weeks, the new secretary couldn’t handle the demotion and the psychological toll. She lost a noticeable amount of weight. The turning point came after an important executive meeting. That day, Lily was assigned to clean the small conference room by herself. Dressed in a skirt suit, she was kneeling on the floor, painstakingly scraping a piece of gum off the carpet with a small blade. Donald, who had returned to retrieve a file, walked in on this scene. Sensing someone behind her, the girl scrambled to her feet, mortified. Donald’s gaze was deep and cold. His silent stare stripped away the last of Lily’s pride. “Mr. Lawson.” Tears dripped from her eyes. They weren’t an act. Donald had always been the sun she admired but could never touch. Just as she was beginning to accept her fate at the company’s periphery, he saw her like this, at her lowest. Lily wanted nothing more than to push past him and run. In just two weeks, the once bright and cheerful girl had become this fragile. It was the first time I had ever seen Donald truly lose his temper. When he came home that night, he slapped the glass of water I offered him out of my hand, shattering it on the floor. Water splashed everywhere. “Why won’t you just leave her alone?” he roared. “Vera, I respect you, I love you, and I have tolerated your insults and cruelty towards her again and again. What kind of sick pleasure do you get from bullying someone weaker than you?” I remembered then. When Donald was studying abroad, his younger sister, who was in middle school, had committed suicide after being relentlessly bullied. It was a scar on his soul that had never healed, and he despised bullying with a passion. “Vera, don’t let me see you use these tactics to hurt someone ever again,” he warned, his voice shaking with rage. “Or I will not stand by and do nothing.” I stared at the man who had completely lost control. For the first time in our marriage, Donald was yelling at me, had lost his reason, over another woman—and for something I hadn’t even done. The feeling was sickening. Like shattering glass. Like spilled water that could never be gathered again.
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