Once His Wife, Now His Rival

Chapter 3

James Jackson, one of Daniel’s most trusted secretaries, blinked in shock as Kimberly placed her resignation letter before him.

He knew what few others in the company did—that Kimberly was Daniel’s wife. And with that knowledge came an unvarnished truth: Daniel had never truly loved her. After their marriage, his visits home had dwindled to near nothing, and his attitude toward her had been nothing short of cold and indifferent.

Kimberly, however, had chosen to join Forester Group not out of personal ambition, but in the hope of drawing closer to her husband. She had once dreamt of becoming Daniel’s personal assistant, working by his side. Yet Daniel had refused her firmly, even when Arnold intervened on her behalf. In the end, she had settled into the larger marketing team, just another face among many.

At first, James had feared her presence might spark gossip or disruption. To his surprise, Kimberly never gave anyone reason to complain. She worked diligently, maintained her distance when necessary, and devoted herself entirely to her tasks. Whether during her pregnancy or after giving birth, she adhered strictly to company policies and never requested special treatment.

Her efforts had not gone unnoticed. Over the years, she had risen to lead the marketing team, admired for her unwavering diligence and professional poise. Yet James had always known the deeper reason behind her tireless work—to earn Daniel’s respect. Watching from the sidelines, he had never imagined she would one day walk away from it all.

Something must have happened between them, he thought, a fracture deep enough for Kimberly to finally let go. The realization unsettled him.

Keeping his voice steady, he said, “I acknowledge receipt of your resignation letter, Mrs. Forester. I’ll make arrangements for someone to take over your duties.”

“Thank you,” Kimberly replied simply, her calm demeanor betraying none of the quiet resolve behind her words, before returning to her desk.

Later that morning, James sat through an online meeting with Daniel, briefing him on company affairs. As the discussion neared its conclusion, he faltered, Kimberly’s resignation letter pressing heavily on his mind.

“Oh—Mr. Forester, there’s one more matter…”

But the moment the words escaped his lips, he froze. Daniel’s long-standing instructions resurfaced in his memory: never involve him in Kimberly’s employment. Her performance was to be assessed by the same standards as anyone else. Daniel had never once shown personal concern for her work, not even when she had been up for promotion. Back then, his sole reaction had been a disapproving frown, accompanied by the pointed reminder that her career was to be strictly governed by company policy.

Daniel’s voice pulled him back. “What is it?”

James cleared his throat quickly. “Nothing important.”

Daniel gave a curt nod and ended the call.

James leaned back in his chair. If Daniel already knew about Kimberly’s resignation, he clearly didn’t care. That, in itself, told James everything he needed to know.

By mid-morning, a colleague nudged Kimberly’s shoulder gently. “You seem lost in thought.”

Kimberly offered a faint smile. “Just tired. Nothing more.”

“Don’t you usually call your daughter around this time?”

“Not today,” she replied softly.

Her colleagues knew of her twice-daily calls—once at 2 a.m. to match Stanford’s morning, and again at noon. What they didn’t know was that her daughter was Daniel Forester’s child.

Kimberly returned to her work with a calm face, though her heart felt heavier with each passing hour.

That evening, she stopped by a supermarket to pick up groceries and a few potted plants. After cooking herself a simple dinner, she sat at her desk, scrolling through information about the upcoming technology exhibition.

At last, she made a call. “Please reserve a ticket for next month’s exhibition in my name.”

The man on the other end scoffed. “You said the same thing the last two years, and you never showed up. Do you know how many people would give anything for those tickets? You wasted them.”

“I know,” Kimberly admitted. “But this time will be different. If I don’t go, I won’t ask again. Ever.”

There was a pause. Then the line went dead—agreement without words.

Kimberly smiled faintly. She hadn’t told him her real reason. She wanted to step back into the world she had once abandoned—the world of innovation and technology. Years ago, she had helped start off a late grandpa's firm with friends, but marriage and family had forced her to withdraw, leaving resentment in her wake.

Now, with divorce looming, she thought of returning. But she knew the industry had moved on quickly, and she needed to prepare. Attending the exhibition was her first step.

In the days that followed, Kimberly kept her focus at work and tended to her own life after hours. She neither called Daniel nor reached out to Sophia. And neither of them reached out to her.

It didn’t surprise her. For over half a year, her communication with them had been one-sided, her calls answered with indifference or impatience. Perhaps silence was better.

Back in Stanford, Sophia had developed a new morning habit—calling Clara the moment she woke up.

One morning, the cheerful call ended in tears.

“Clara, what do you mean you’re going back to the country?” Sophia cried.

“It’s true,” Clara admitted softly. “My time here is ending.”

Distraught, Sophia hung up and immediately called her father. “Dad! Did you know Clara is leaving?”

At his office, Daniel turned a page of his documents calmly. “Yes.”

“When did you find out?”

“A while ago.”

“Dad, that’s awful!” Sophia’s voice cracked. Hugging her stuffed pig tightly, she sobbed, “I don’t want Clara to leave. If she goes, I don’t want to stay here either. I want to go back home!”

Daniel’s voice remained even. “It’s already arranged.”

Sophia sniffled. “Arranged? What do you mean?”

“We’re going back next week.”

Her tears vanished in an instant. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Joy lit her face. “Then we’ll surprise Clara! Don’t tell her yet, okay?”

“Alright,” Daniel replied.

“You’re the best, Dad! I love you so much!”

Hanging up, Sophia spun around her room, dancing with excitement.

But her joy faltered when a stray thought hit her—her mother. Kimberly hadn’t called in days. At first, Sophia had felt relieved, even happy, to avoid the conversations she found annoying. But now, the silence felt different. Strange.

On impulse, she dialed Kimberly’s number.

The call rang once, twice—then Sophia hung up abruptly, guilt prickling at her chest.

Miles away, Kimberly sat up in bed at the sound of the call. Her phone screen glowed with Sophia’s name, but before she could answer, the line went dead.

Alarm shot through her. Though she had already agreed to give up custody in the divorce, she still felt responsible. Quickly, she called back.

But Sophia ignored the call.

Kimberly, more worried now, dialed the villa’s landline. Evelyn answered.

“Ms. Santos should be fine,” Evelyn reassured her gently. “She stayed up late last night. I’ll check on her and call you back.”

Relieved but restless, Kimberly thanked her. When Evelyn returned upstairs, Sophia was brushing her teeth.

“Your mother was worried when you didn’t answer,” Evelyn said kindly.

Sophia lowered her gaze and lied, “I pressed the wrong button.”

Evelyn believed her, updating Kimberly that everything was fine.

Kimberly tried to rest again, but sleep didn’t come easily.

At the villa, the envelope with Kimberly’s divorce agreement still lay forgotten, hidden in a drawer. Daniel hadn’t even opened it.

Within a few days, the Lincoln limousine rolled toward the airport. Daniel and Sophia were headed home.

By the time their plane touched down, it was nearly midnight. Carrying his sleeping daughter upstairs, Daniel passed the open door of the master bedroom.

The room was dark. Empty. Kimberly wasn’t there.

Peter Hawk, the butler, appeared with Daniel’s luggage.

“Where is she?” Daniel asked casually.

“Mrs. Forester is on a business trip,” Peter replied.

Daniel loosened his tie. Kimberly, gone for over two weeks? Unusual. But he only murmured, “Alright,” and asked no more.