Divorced on My Birthday The CEO’s Secretary Spent My Money,So I Destroyed His Empire – My husband’s secretary had been swiping my card like it was her personal allowance, and she’d even called me a useless trophy wife right there in the middle of a French restaurant. I was so furious I froze her card on the spot. Left her without a cent to pay the bill. Not only did she lose face in front of everyone, but the manager held her there for an entire day and night. When my husband found out, he just tapped me on the nose playfully. “You! A grown woman getting jealous over a little secretary? And now she’s the laughingstock of the whole city.” He didn’t blame me. Acted like nothing had happened. Until my birthday, when he took me out to a French restaurant. He ordered dozens of expensive dishes and bottles of wine, said some friends of his were coming to celebrate. “Honey, I need to step out for a bit.
I’ll be right back to celebrate with you.” I waited until the restaurant was about to close. He never came back. His friends never showed. When I pulled out my card to pay, the manager shook his head. “Ms. Henson, this card has been frozen.” “Frozen?” Harry Gilbert had given me this card himself. Before we left, he’d even taken my own card away, saying since it was my birthday, he should be the one to pay. I’d been so touched. Secretly proud of myself for finding such a thoughtful husband. Now he was nowhere to be found. I’d called him dozens of times. Nothing. If this card didn’t work, I was in trouble. The manager’s expression shifted from polite to impatient. “Ms. Henson, do you have another card?” “Just so we’re clear—we don’t do tabs here. You of all people should know that after what happened last month.” Of course I remembered.
Last month, Harry’s secretary had gone on a spending spree with his card, then called me a useless trophy wife to my face. A sick feeling crept up my spine. Was this Harry’s way of getting revenge for her? The click of heels echoed from the entrance. I turned—and there was Harry, his arm wrapped around his secretary, whose face was twisted with smug hatred. Behind them trailed a group of his friends, every single one of them watching me like I was tonight’s entertainment. “Celeste Henson.” Silvia Finch’s voice dripped with venom. “You love punishing people who can’t pay their bills, don’t you? Let’s see how you handle it.” The room erupted. “I heard she’s from some dirt-poor family.
Only got lucky because Mr. Gilbert took a shine to her. And now her own husband shows up with his new woman to watch her squirm.” “Ha! This is what happens when you try to climb the ladder on looks alone.” “Exactly. How long does a pretty face last? The second a rich man finds someone younger and prettier, your luxury lifestyle is over.” My fists clenched. Humiliation burned through me. Just as I’d suspected. Harry had set this whole thing up for his secretary. He walked Silvia to a table at the front, pulled out her chair, and sat down beside her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” His voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. “However she humiliated you that day, I’ll pay her back double.” Silvia’s face lit up.
She turned and kissed him right on the lips. “Thank you, Harry.” Then she looked at me, eyes sharp with triumph. “Celeste, you’re nothing but a pretty face. A waste of space. What gave you the right to freeze my card?” She grabbed one of the expensive wine bottles from the table and hurled it at my feet. Crash. Red wine splashed across my face. I stood there, dripping, looking every bit as pathetic as they wanted me to look. “Ha!” Silvia laughed. “Worthless. I’ve got Harry to pay for whatever I break. But you?” She grinned. “You’re done.”