For 12 years, I let Roderick think he was winning.

Winning my family's company. Winning the right to parade Selina—his CFO, his "partner", his not-so-secret mistress—at every gala. Winning the game where I played the quiet homemaker, too busy with our daughter to notice.

Everyone asked why I didn't fight back. Why I let Selina post those beach pics (him with his arm around her waist, her grinning like she owned the place) or call herself "family" in front of the whole team.

I just smiled, "What's there to worry about?"

--

Selina Stanwick, the CFO of my husband Roderick Maddox's company, was the very model of loyalty and exceptional competence.

She had been a key player in Roderick's business ventures through her twenties and into her early thirties, and she had never married.

In contrast, I had spent years as a homemaker, focusing solely on our daughter's education.

A friend was outraged on my behalf. "Selina acts like she's Mrs. Maddox! How can you just sit there and do nothing?"

I smiled, "What's there to worry about?"

Roderick was merely employing a low-cost management tactic.

And there was an apt and precise online term for it: sexual manipulation.

While Roderick Maddox was at sea on a team retreat, I finished dinner at home with our daughter, Gloria Tucker.

My best friend, Veronica Kiffin, started blowing up my phone.

A dozen photos flooded in.

Then she called. The dull thud of waves crashing against the ship's hull came through the receiver.

She sounded annoyed. "Maeve, why didn't you come to the event?

"Selina is practically glued to Rod!"

Veronica's husband was a business partner, and the team retreat was jointly organized by both companies.

As for the photos... I'd already seen them on Selina's Instagram.

One of them stood out.

In it, against the boundless blue of the sky and ocean, Selina stood close to Roderick on the deck.

She wore a flimsy, bright yellow bikini that showed off the curvaceous body she was proud of.

She clung to his arm, and Roderick held her around the waist, their bodies pressed against each other.

Selina held a champagne glass, her smile radiant and confident.

In almost every picture, she and Roderick stood front and center.

She carried herself like the hostess.

She hadn't even bothered to limit who could see the post.

That way, she made sure I'd see all the flattering, congratulatory comments.

The bold, almost provocative photos were flooded with comments.

She only replied to comments that called her "Mrs. Maddox" or said, "You two look perfect together."

"Oh, stop it! Don't say that! Maeve will get mad if she sees this," she wrote.

While they were out there enjoying the sea breeze and champagne, I was stuck handling chores as our housekeeper had taken the day off.

I was peeling an orange for Gloria. The juice squirted out, and a sharp, clean acidity seeped under my fingernails.

At that exact moment, a message from Selina popped up on my screen.

Selina sent two photos: a close-up of her and Roderick and a screenshot of the Instagram comments.

Even though she was dying for me to see them, she still explained with feigned concern, "The wind was so strong out here. Maeve, Mr. Maddox was just keeping me from falling. Don't read into it!"

Right on cue, Roderick texted me with the same excuse.

I smiled and replied, "No problem. Stay safe." I popped a slice of orange into my mouth, then spoke to Veronica tonelessly, "I'm not getting involved in any company matters until Glo starts college."

Veronica's voice was shrill with indignation. "She's acting like she was the wife!

"I remember she used to be your assistant.

"She's getting into your husband's bed, and you're just fine with it?"

She'd just moved back to the country, so she was out of the loop on some things—like how Selina and Roderick's relationship had been going on for over a decade.

I couldn't help but laugh.

Veronica sounded frustrated.

"You're laughing? She has zero respect for you, Maeve!"

She wasn't wrong.

Selina's attitude toward me had changed over time.

It started with the deference she showed as my new assistant.

Then came the tentative probing after I stepped back from work during my pregnancy.

That morphed into seeing me as an equal once she'd closed a few major deals with Roderick.

And finally, after my father passed away while I was pregnant and Roderick consolidated his power, it settled into the victor's undisguised disregard.

I wiped my hands, set the phone on the counter, and continued slicing an apple.

"Veronica, what do you think is the most efficient, lowest-cost reward for a loyal, highly capable subordinate?"

"A promotion? A raise? Stock options?" she responded.

"None of those," I said softly.

"It's giving them preferential treatment. The trick is to make them feel so privileged that they'll hand over everything, all while thinking they're the one getting the better deal."

The line went quiet.

I slowly wiped my hands clean, walked to the study, and handed the fruit platter to Gloria, who was doing her homework. I closed the door before continuing, "I've allowed all of this to happen.

"From a management perspective, it's an incredibly cost-effective way to keep your team in line.

"Well, Roderick has always believed that he's the one in control."

I never actually believed I'd end up marrying Roderick.

It wasn't for any big reason—I just never dared to imagine it.

When we were teens, we went to the same international high school.

But our families' wealth was on totally different levels.

I still remembered the Maddox family at their peak.

In New York, where every square meter costs a fortune, their villa had a private driveway that took eight minutes to traverse. Their garden was dozens of times larger than my home, complete with a special enclosure for their flamingos.

Celebrities and politicians were constant guests.

My own parents had to pull countless strings just to get an invitation to one of their cocktail parties.

Roderick was radiant and impossible to miss. I was just inconspicuous, utterly overlooked by his social circle.

But nothing stays great forever.

During our sophomore year, a major policy shift led to a crackdown in his family's industry.

Their properties and assets were frozen and seized overnight. His father was sent to prison.

Their so-called friends and relatives all kept their distance.

Not long after, Roderick's mother passed away from depression.

Just when everyone was avoiding him, I sold the Hermès Kelly Doll bag my aunt had given me for my eighteenth birthday.

I scraped together 50,000 dollars to cover his tuition abroad.

He was stunned.

I just smiled and told him, "I applied to the same university as you.

"We'll still be classmates."

The unspoken message was clear: I'll still be here to help you.

But a teenage boy's pride was a fragile thing.

His eyes welled up, but he held his head high and said, "I'll pay you back."

Later, he scraped together loans from various sources and worked part-time to finish college.

Meanwhile, he somehow managed to date me through it all.

The year we graduated, he'd actually saved up the full 50,000 dollars, plus interest, and paid me back.

But after that, Roderick had nothing left.

He wanted to marry me, and he knew my parents would object to it.

But Roderick was sharp.

Even though his family had declined, he still had the taste and savvy he'd picked up from his privileged upbringing.

He knew fine wine, he played golf, he was impeccably polite in social settings, and he was ruthlessly shrewd in business.

He landed several big clients for my dad's company over drinks and card games.

Eventually, my dad caved and let us get married, but he still refused to hand over any real power.

Even as his health declined, I was the one holding control of the company.

He was like a cunning landlord, treating Roderick only as his most capable hired hand.

The turning point came when I got pregnant.

My father's health worsened by the day, and my uncles were eyeing the Tucker family's business like vultures.

I had bad morning sickness, draining all my energy, so I had to gradually hand over the core projects to Roderick.

He seemed born with an innate sense for business.

The projects he led brought the company unprecedented profits.

But the more competent he proved, the more anxious my father grew.

He needed a guarantee, one that Roderick would never be able to shake the Tucker family's foundation.

So, after Gloria was born, Roderick voluntarily proposed that she take my last name, Tucker.

This was the pre-arranged condition for the transfer of power.

I still remembered what Roderick told me in the hospital room, with our newborn daughter in his arms and me in bed.

The clarity from his youth was gone from his eyes, replaced by humiliation and raw ambition.

His face was pale as he said, "Maeve, I've gone this far for you and the Tuckers. Your father should be satisfied now."

When a man was stripped of the right to pass on his name, he would inevitably seek compensation elsewhere—in more money, and in more women.

I gave him power and turned a blind eye when he built up his own team.

Selina was promoted from her assistant position by his own hand shortly after.

Then, when Gloria was seven, my dad passed away.

The second he closed his eyes, that delicate balance shattered completely.

Roderick's era began—or at least, the era he thought was his.

All these years, I'd stayed in the background, ostensibly playing the role of a devoted wife and mother. But in reality, I'd just been watching.

I saw how Roderick pushed through bold reforms and how he promoted Selina constantly until she became director.

To be fair, Selina was capable.

She had become his right-hand woman, deployed wherever necessary to secure his objectives.

She secured several key domestic and international projects for the company. She was a formidable negotiator at the table and a masterful networker at social events.

She was his most capable right hand, his most trusted partner, and his most intimate lover.

Everyone in the company knew it except me, Maeve Tucker, the hostess of the Tucker house.

I was like a piece of an antique vase, displayed nicely at home but utterly forgotten.

Veronica's phone call had just finally torn away the thin veil of a secret everyone already knew.

For years, a weekly encrypted report landed in my private inbox, detailing every unusual fund transfer and suspicious personnel shift within the company.

I ended the call and glanced at Gloria's focused silhouette in the study.

Her high school years were almost over.

And that meant it was my time to return and take control of the company.

Not long after Gloria graduated from high school, the company celebrated its thirtieth anniversary.

After years away from the corporate world as a homemaker, I'd grown rusty in handling company affairs.

But I decided to attend the dinner.

The second I walked into the ball with Roderick's arm linked in mine, I knew Selina would steal the show tonight.

I wore a custom champagne-colored gown, elegant and aloof.

Selina, however, was in a blue dress that perfectly matched Roderick's tie.

It was as if they were the couple who had coordinated their outfits.

"Mr. Maddox, Mr. Prowse and the others have been waiting," she said, smoothly handing him a glass of champagne, ignoring me.

He gave my hand a quick, placating pat. "Find a seat. I need to go say hello."

He took the glass and followed Selina to the buzzing crowd, leaving me behind.

It didn't take long before people around started whispering about me without holding back.

"Is that Mr. Maddox's wife? She doesn't seem as overpowering as Ms. Stanwick, honestly."

"Shh! Keep your voice down. But honestly, look at Ms. Stanwick and Mr. Maddox together. That's a perfect match."

"Yeah, I heard she's been a homemaker for years. She knows he's fond of Ms. Stanwick, but she doesn't dare make a scene."

"Of course not! Ms. Stanwick accounts for half of our company's success. If I were a man, I'd pick her, too!"

I kept a faint smile on my face, pretending not to hear.

A moment later, a girl with an intern badge, her eyes shining with fervent admiration, walked toward Selina with a drink. A passing guest accidentally blocked her path right in front of me.

She sidestepped impatiently, frowning when her gaze landed on me.

"Excuse me, ma'am," she said, her tone laced with condescension.

"This area is reserved for guests at the main table. To avoid disturbing Ms. Stanwick and the other VIPs, I think you shouldn't linger here."

When she finished, she even tilted her chin toward Selina.

Her attempt to suck up couldn't have been more obvious.

Selina glanced over, her smile broadening, but she made no move to intervene.

Everyone around us was waiting to see me make a fool of myself.

Before I could speak, Roderick's assistant hurried. "Corinne," he said to the intern, "this is Mr. Maddox's wife, Ms. Maeve Tucker."

Corinne Rudge's face went pale. She immediately bowed and apologized.

Roderick glanced over at me, a clear signal that he was aware of the situation and was handling it.

For over a decade, he had deliberately avoided any mention of his family or marriage in interviews.

And he had constantly reinforced Selina's importance within the company.

Otherwise, I'd never have been treated with such disrespect.

He walked over to the main table and pulled out the chair next to his, gesturing for me to sit.

Only then did I notice the truly bizarre seating arrangement.

Roderick was at the head of the table, with Selina and me seated on either side of him. It was a stable yet awkward arrangement.

He smoothly unbuttoned his coat, awkwardly explaining, "Don't overthink it. Selina often handles the drinking for me at these events, so she's used to sitting close by."

When it came time for the speeches, Selina, as a company veteran, was the first to speak.

She raised her glass to the crowd, but her eyes were locked on Roderick.

"For over a decade, I've given all my youth and passion to this company. The person I want to thank the most is Mr. Maddox." Her voice trembled slightly, thick with manufactured emotion.

"Thank you for shielding me from the storms and giving me the world to explore. All these years, the company has been my home, and Mr. Maddox has been my family!"

She emphasized the final word.

Instantly, all eyes in the room turned to me, waiting for my reaction.

I finally looked up, turning to Selina with a smile. "Ms. Stanwick, that was beautifully said. Rod and I have always thought of you as family, too."

I paused, then shifted gears, my smile wider, "Just like how we all adore Chewie.

"You grow attached after a while, don't you agree?"

Selina's cheeks flushed slightly with confusion. "Chewie? Which department is he in?"

Roderick's assistant leaned in and murmured, "Chewie is the Ragdoll cat Mr. Maddox and his wife own."

The color instantly drained from Selina's face.

I raised my glass, gently clinking it against hers. "It was so scrawny when we found it, always rubbing against our legs, begging for food.

"Now its fur is soft and shiny. It's put on weight. Sometimes, it even scratches the sofa, acting like it owns the place."