Teaching My Greedy Husband A Lesson

Chapter Five

The sharp click of Sheila’s heels echoed through the silent mansion.

Jacob was waiting for her — standing dead center in the living room, his face pale with fury and humiliation.

His eyes locked on hers, dark and hollow. The same eyes that once made her weak now only filled her with disgust.

“Move,” she said coldly, not breaking her stride.

He didn’t. He stepped closer instead, blocking her path like a wounded beast.

“How dare you do this to me?” he hissed, voice trembling with rage. “Was that your plan all along? To humiliate me? After everything I’ve been through? After what Elena did to me?”

Sheila tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. “I said move, Jacob.”

He ignored her, desperation leaking into his voice. “Answer me! You had the security drag me out like a criminal—out of my company!”

She let out a short, cold laugh. “Your company?”

“Stop it, Sheila!” he snapped, his voice breaking. “You’re destroying everything! You chose today of all days to do this? Are you really this heartless?”

She folded her arms, her expression icy. “Your suffering isn’t my problem. Weren’t you the one begging for a divorce? I’m simply helping you get what you wanted.”

That silenced him for a moment. His anger cracked into something weaker — desperation, regret, fear.

“You’re leaving me now?” he whispered, eyes wide. “After everything we’ve been through? I made mistakes, but it’s not my fault! If you’d told me I was infertile earlier, I wouldn’t have—”

“Don’t.” Sheila’s voice cut through his excuses like glass. “Don’t you dare try to blame me for your sins.”

She reached into her handbag and pulled out a neat stack of documents. Without ceremony, she slapped them against his chest.

“Sign them,” she said flatly. “You’re not worth another minute of my life.”

Jacob stared down at the papers, his hands shaking as realization sank in. “Divorce papers?” His knees hit the floor as he clutched them. “Sheila, please… You can’t do this. I love you! I gave you everything—love, a home, a family—”

Her laugh was sharp and humorless. “A family? Tell me, Jacob — do you mean the one where your mistress carried another man’s child, or the one where your mother called me barren?”

As if summoned by the words, Mrs. Winfrey appeared in the doorway, her daughter Chloe trailing behind.

Mrs. Winfrey’s face twisted with false sympathy. “Sheila, you can’t leave him like this. He needs you now more than ever. Can’t you see how broken he is?”

Sheila stared at the woman — the same one who had spat venom at her for years. The hypocrisy almost made her laugh.

“Where was that concern when you called me names?” she said, voice trembling with emotion she refused to show. “When you humiliated me in front of everyone? Now that he’s on the floor, you suddenly remember I’m his wife?”

Mrs. Winfrey scowled. “You’re heartless! A proper wife stands by her husband no matter what!”

“Enough,” Sheila snapped. “I’ve stood by him long enough. I’m done being your family’s punching bag.”

She turned to leave, but Chloe stepped forward, voice small and trembling. “You can’t just abandon him, Sheila. What if he… hurts himself? Could you live with that?”

Sheila froze, then turned slowly to face her. Her expression was unreadable for a moment—then she smiled bitterly.

“Would you?” she asked softly. “Would you stay with a man who can’t give you children? Or is it only me who’s supposed to sacrifice everything?”

The question hung in the air like a curse.

Mrs. Winfrey’s face twisted with rage. “How dare you speak about my son like that!” she shouted, raising her hand.

But Sheila caught her wrist mid-swing, her grip like iron.

“Don’t,” she warned, her voice low and deadly. “Don’t you ever try that again.”

Mrs. Winfrey’s lip curled. “I knew it. You were only ever here for his money!”

Sheila’s smirk was lethal. “His money?” she echoed. “Oh, you mean my money?”

She shoved the woman’s hand away. “Everything Jacob owns — the company, the cars, even this house — it’s all under my name. Every contract, every share.”

The room fell silent.

Chloe blinked, confused. “That’s a lie,” she whispered.

“Check for yourself,” Sheila said coolly. “The news broke hours ago. Go ahead, Chloe — search my name.”

Chloe fumbled for her phone, her fingers trembling as she scrolled through the headlines. Her face drained of color.

“She’s… Wilson Grey’s daughter?” she whispered, looking at Jacob in shock.

Jacob’s mother turned pale. “What did you say?”

Sheila smiled faintly, adjusting the strap of her purse. “You heard her.”

She disappeared upstairs briefly and returned with her bag in hand. Pausing at the bottom of the staircase, she looked at them — Jacob kneeling on the floor, his mother shaking, Chloe frozen with disbelief.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said lightly. “This house has been listed for sale. You’ll need to move out soon. Or don’t — I honestly don’t care anymore.”

She walked to the door, her heels echoing one last time through the silent room.

“Sign the papers, Jacob,” she said softly without looking back. “While I’m still being civil. Because next time, I won’t be.”

And with that, she left.

Outside, the crisp air hit her skin like freedom. She got into her car, exhaling a long, shaky breath before dialing a number on her phone.

“Mira,” she said as soon as the line connected, her voice calm and resolute. “I’m coming over. A free woman at last.”

Mira’s delighted scream nearly made her laugh. “Finally! Took you long enough, boss lady! I’ll get the champagne ready!”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Sheila smiled — genuinely smiled — as she drove away, the mansion shrinking in her rearview mirror.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Winfrey,” she whispered, eyes gleaming. “Time to be Sheila Grey again.”