Fired By My Husband
“Sorry, ma’am. You can’t go inside. And I’ve been asked to give you this.”
Riley’s voice shook. Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine. The envelope in her trembling hands felt like a death sentence.
I stared at it. Termination Letter.
My name was on it.
“Excuse me?” The word tore out of me before I could stop it. “Say that again.”
Riley swallowed hard and pushed the letter across the desk. Her fingers brushed mine, cold with guilt.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Dean. Mr. Dean asked me to hand you your termination letter.”
The lobby went silent.
For a second, I couldn’t breathe. Then anger hit, hot and fast.
My head tilted. My fingers tapped against Riley’s desk—slow, deliberate.
Then I laughed. Loud. Too loud for a quiet Tuesday morning.
“You guys got me,” I said, scanning the lobby for cameras. “Where’s the hidden crew? Come on, roll it.”
But no one laughed.
Riley looked like she was about to cry. The two security guards I’d bought Christmas gifts for every year shifted on their feet, shame written all over their faces.
My grin died.
“Who fires the owner of a company?” I whispered. My voice cracked. “Who does that?”
“Please, ma’am,” the older guard said, stepping forward. “We don’t want to make a scene. Please, just go.”
“A scene?” I snapped. My bag dug into my shoulder as I gripped it tighter. “This is a scene. And I want to know who wrote the script. Who told you to do this?”
They didn’t answer.
All three of them looked at the floor.
Riley broke first.
“Mr. Dean, ma’am. He gave the order. I’m sorry.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Drake.
My husband.
The man who whispered I’ll never hurt you into my neck last night.
My hands moved on autopilot. Phone out. Call log. Husband ❤️❤️.
It rang.
And rang.
And rang.
No answer.
I tried again. And again.
Nothing.
Panic clawed up my throat. I turned to run, but the guards moved faster, blocking every exit like I was a thief, not the woman who’d built this company with him.
“Fine,” I said, straightening my jacket like I still had control. My voice was ice. “I’ll leave. But if this is a joke, you’re all fired. Especially you, Riley.”
Riley sobbed. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
I didn’t look back.
Outside, the air hit me like a slap. My chest tightened. The world tilted.
No. Not here. Not now.
My knees buckled.
I was falling—
When hands caught me.
“Easy,” a calm voice said. “Breathe with me. In… and out.”
I couldn’t see his face. Just the steady rhythm of his voice, pulling me back from the edge.
In. Out.
In. Out.
When I opened my eyes, a stranger was kneeling in front of me. Early thirties. Expensive suit. Eyes that saw too much.
“Better?” he asked.
I nodded, mortified. My makeup was ruined. My pride was in shreds.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He smiled faintly and pulled a black business card from his briefcase.
“Something tells me you’ll need a lawyer,” he said, handing it to me. “Call me if you do. And even if you don’t… call me anyway.”
I almost laughed. Almost.
“Great. Now I’ve ruined my makeup. What a day.”
He tilted his head. “It could be worse. You just don’t know it yet.”
My eyes snapped to the office window above us.
Drake’s office.
His silhouette was there, coffee in hand, watching.
My blood ran cold.
“Oh,” I whispered. “You have no idea.”
