Chapter 1
After I landed a $300 million deal for the company, my CEO husband Grayson Whitmore was absolutely “thrilled.” He promised to get me a watch to celebrate, then grabbed a Sharpie and doodled a cartoon watch on my wrist.
“Babe, things have been tight this year. I’ll make it up to you with a real one next year, I promise.”
Then I stumbled across his secretary’s Instagram. There was Grayson at some high end auction, bidding on a $100 million limited edition watch for her. Her caption read:
“When someone really loves you, they give you something no one else has.”
Suddenly it all made sense. The company wasn’t broke–I just wasn’t worth it.
I didn’t throw a fit, just quietly hit the like button.
Ivy’s Instagram comments went absolutely wild.
Within minutes, Grayson was blowing up my phone:
“Celeste, come on, you know it’s not what it looks like! I only got her that thing to keep the team motivated, you know how it is.”
“Look, just unlike that post and maybe comment something to clear this up? I’ll book us that honeymoon we’ve been talking about, deal?”
But I was done swallowing his empty promises.
‘Don’t bother. Let’s divorce.”
Grayson’s voice turned sharp with irritation:
‘Look, I already told you—it’s just employee motivation! And need I remind you, you own half this company too. Everything I do benefits you!”
‘Jesus, Celeste Warner. I try to do something nice and you throw it back at me, then joke about divorce?”
‘Marriage isn’t a goddamn game. I’m warning you right now–don’t ever pull this shit again.”
‘And, I gave you a chance to fix this mess. You chose not to, so don’t come crying to me when things get ugly.”
He slammed the phone down.
stared at the civil hall building and let out a long sigh. He had no idea how exhausted I was with all of this. This time, I meant every word about
livorce.
The line was endless. I grabbed my number and mindlessly scrolled through my phone while waiting.
vy’s Instagram had turned into a complete battlefield. My team was totally defending me in the comments:
Wow, stealing someone’s husband–your parents raised you so well! Maybe give us a masterclass on sleeping your way to the top?”
‘Agreed. Why bust your ass working overtime when you can just sweet–talk your way to the top? Wish I’d figured that out sooner.”
The savage comments kept coming. No wonder Grayson had called me in a panic, demanding I shut it down. His precious little mistress was getting Iragged through the mud.
But honestly? Everything they were saying was true.
Ivy Monroe was nothing but a pretty face with zero substance. Grayson had rejected Harvard and Yale graduates just to hire her–a community college dropout.
When the office started buzzing with gossip, I’d asked him about it. He’d looked at me like I’d personally offended him:
15:05
Wake Up, Mr. Cinderella, It’s Time to Go Bankrupt now!
0.0%
“Babe, I thought you have my back on this. I didn’t think you’d be as shallow as everyone else, judging people by their degrees.”
“Don’t post remember what we always said? Ruild something different, give young people a real shot regardless of background.”
It felt terrible and immediately told Mr. Walker to focus on skills over credentials when hiring.
Then when Mr. Walker hired someone from a decent state school, Grayson absolutely lost his shit, screaming at him for an entire afternoon
What the hell is this? Are we running a charity now? If you can’t tell the difference between quality candidates and random losers, maybe you
couldn’t be doing this job.”
Purns out his “equal opportunity” policy only applied to Ivy Monroe.
My phone buzzed with messages from my team:
Boss, don’t let it get to you. We’ve got your back.”
Their memes and supportive messages lifted my spirits a bit, I was about to tell them to ease up when our company Slack exploded with an innouncement from Grayson:
Effective immediately: Any employee caught on social media during work hours will have their salary cut in half and lose all performance bonuses.
text offense results in termination.”
When I saw the punishment list, I nearly laughed out loud.
very employee who’d liked or congratulated Ivy? Untouched.
very single person getting fined? My team members.
ty phone started blowing up instantly.
This is such bullshit! Grayson’s not punishing us–he’s going after you through us!”
Boss, you ever think about ditching this place and going solo?”
Seriously, wherever you go, we’re following you out the door!”
eeing how fired up they were broke my heart. After seven years of marriage, Grayson knew exactly how to hurt me. I was fiercely protective of my eople–that was my weakness.
Whenever I did something that pissed him off, he’d take it out on my team. I’d tolerated it over and over again, but I was done playing that game!
made a phone call.
he voice on the other end was thrilled: “Celeste! Please tell me you’re finally ready to jump ship. We’ve been waiting for this call!”
I have one condition.”
Name it! Hell, name twenty–whatever you need.”
I want to bring my entire team with me.”
he voice on the other end was ecstatic: “Even better! I’m drafting contracts right now. We’ll pay everyone double–no, triple–what they’re making
OW!”
My team had always been the top performers, but because of me, they kept getting screwed over. Grayson used them as leverage against me.
ut not anymore.
ifter handling all the logistics, it was finally my turn at the window.
handed over the divorce papers I’d been carrying.
13:05
Wake Up. Mr. Cinderella. It’s Time to Go Nankrupt now!
3.3%
Chupied 1
Seven years ago, Grayson seemed to have forgotten something. Back when we were actually happy and stupidly in love, we’d insisted on having a clean break clause–if either of us ever treated the other badly, we could walk away, no questions asked.
We’d both been so confident we’d never need it.
Guess we were wrong
“Ma’am, I need to confirm that your marriage has irretrievably broken down before we can proceed.”
I reluctantly tried calling Grayson. He kept hanging up on me.
Ten minutes passed. The couples behind me were getting visibly annoyed, and even the clerk looked exhausted.
Finally, I just pulled up Ivy’s Instagram stories.
Sure enough, there was Grayson at her apartment, wearing a ridiculous frilly apron, frantically trying to cook dinner for her.
I scrolled through more evidence–all the expensive gifts he’d bought her with company money.
The clerk looked at me with pity and stopped asking questions.
“You can pick up your divorce decree tomorrow.”
“Thanks”
I walked out feeling lighter than I had in years.
That’s when Grayson finally decided to call me back.
8500
