She Betrayed Me for Her Childhood Crush,Now I'm a Billionaire

The vice president position at the company was vacant. My wife proposed a competition: whoever between me and her childhood friend could successfully start a new business within three years would get the role.

I went south. Her childhood friend went north. Each of us on our own merits.

For three years, I poured everything I had into building my startup until it reached a market value of over a hundred million dollars.

To avoid creating conflict with her childhood friend, I lied and said my venture had failed, then came back to the company.

During those three years, her childhood friend had grown quickly too, becoming a rising star in the business world.

But at the succession ceremony, my wife's rival suddenly made a quip.

"Kathleen, if you really wanted to test them, you shouldn't have opened up resources for them. You should've made them figure it out on their own."

I smiled. "Mrs. Simmons, my wife even cut off our living expenses. I just wasn't good enough."

"Impossible!"

Mrs. Simmons waved her glass, her cheeks flushed with wine. "Last year Kathleen traded shares to get me to open up northern resources. You're telling me that didn't help?"

My gaze snapped to my wife. My expression darkened.

Kathleen Pruitt let out an awkward laugh. "Arthur Dickerson, you're my husband. No matter what, your life going forward won't be bad."

"But"

She cut me off, her face turning cold. "But what? Dylan has always struggled with insecurity. I was just giving him enough reassurance."

"You've been riding on the fact that you're my husband, blinded by your own arrogance. If you had any self-awareness at all, you'd start over from the bottom!"

"And if you even think about eyeing Dylan's VP position, don't blame me for what comes next!"

Bitterness flooded my chest. My hand tightened around my phone.

Inside it was evidence of her tax evasion. Since this was how things were, there was no reason for me to keep covering for her.

I looked at Kathleen.

"I'm only going to ask you one thing. What Mrs. Simmons just said about opening up the northern resourcesis it true?"

A flicker of embarrassment crossed her face before she smoothed it away.

"Arthur, everyone knows you got where you are because of me. All I did was give the position to someone with actual ability."

"Don't worry. Once your skills improve a little, I'll definitely promote you."

I laughed.

"Promote me. You won't do it now, but you're telling me 'later'?"

"And you told me it was a fair competition, then secretly funneled him resources behind my back. That's your idea of fair?"

I couldn't let it go.

"What am I to you?"

"Was this all just a game to you?"

But the next second, her voice dropped low and hard.

"I told you, I was only giving Dylan some reassurance. What are you making a scene about?"

"That's not a reason to lie to me!"

Kathleen's patience snapped. "The company is mine. I can give the VP position to whoever I want!"

"Forget about me helping Dylan. Even without my help, do you honestly think your three years of accomplishing absolutely nothing could compare to him?"

Right on cue, Dylan Henson rushed forward, his face full of concern. "Arthur, please don't fight with Kathleen."

"This is all my fault. I'm the one who told her during the startup phase that I felt insecure. That's why she pulled strings for me."

"Dylan, this isn't your fault. You don't need to apologize to him!" Kathleen pulled him behind her and fixed me with a cold stare.

"You couldn't even handle a startup without running it into the ground. You really think you have what it takes to lead a company?"

"We've all seen how hard Dylan has worked. He has the management skills. He deserves to be VP."

"With me as your CEO wife, you could do nothing for the rest of your life and still never go hungry. I don't even know what you're complaining about!"

"Complaining?"

I laughed.

"You see his effort. But what about mine? When I was drinking myself into a stomach ulcer trying to land investors and close clients, where were you?"

I kicked the chair over.

It grazed past Dylan.

My wife stared at me in shock. This was the first time I had ever defied her.

But just then, Dylan collapsed to the ground, crying out in pain.

"Ah, my leg!"

"Arthur, you were right to hit me. I know I'm just an outsider. I shouldn't have tried to take the VP position from you. I don't want it anymore. Please, just stop hurting me."

Kathleen's face twisted with fury.

"You've always bullied him behind my back. Now I see my decision was the right one. If I'd made you VP, you probably would've beaten him to death!"

She knelt down and gently rolled up Dylan's pant leg.

It was barely a scratch.

But she shot me a venomous glare. "If anything happens to Dylan, you're out. And don't even dream about that VP position!"

Watching her rush to his defense, I felt the last trace of warmth drain from my chest. A bitter laugh escaped me.

"If that's how it is, then let's get a divorce."

"Forget the VP title. I don't want your company either."

I turned and walked out of the private room.

But the second the door slammed shut behind me, I heard Mrs. Simmons's voice from inside.

"Kathleen, don't drag me into this. You're the one who wanted to use the ceremony to undercut Arthur so Dylan could lock down the VP spot. You told me exactly what to say."

"He's not actually going to divorce you over this, is he?"

Kathleen scoffed. "He's bluffing. Once he hits rock bottom, he'll come crawling back."

"I bought off every one of his investors and clients a long time ago, just to keep him in line."

The words hit me like a blade between the ribs.

So that was it.

Every investor who'd turned me down. Every client who'd ghosted me. She had gotten to all of them first.

If I hadn't shifted my focus overseas, I'd probably be drowning in debt by now.

At that moment, the stomach I'd wrecked from years of drinking with clients decided to betray me. A sharp, twisting pain seized my gut.

The wail of an ambulance cut through the air outside. Paramedics in white coats rushed through the entrance, stretcher in tow.

Cold sweat beaded at my temples. I reached out a hand. "Excuse me, could you"

"Please step aside, sir. Someone inside is seriously injured. We need to get to them immediately."

They swept past me and into Kathleen's private room.

Moments later, Dylan emerged on the stretcher.

As they carried him past, one of the paramedics noticed me clutching my stomach, my face drained of color.

"Hey, this guy doesn't look right either"

Before he could finish, Kathleen cut in sharply.

"He's faking it for sympathy. Ignore him. Get Dylan to the hospital now. If the delay costs him, I'll have every one of you reported."

The paramedic shot me a look of disgust and hurried Dylan into the ambulance.

Just before the doors closed, Dylan turned his head toward me and flashed a smug little smile.

The pain in my stomach kept getting worse.

In the end, a stranger called an ambulance for me.

By the time I reached the hospital, the doctor said if I'd arrived even a few minutes later, I could have suffered another gastric perforation.

After being admitted and taking my medication, the pain finally dulled to something bearable.

That was when Dylan posted a video update.

In the clip, my wife handed him an appointment letter to sign. Then she sat at his bedside with a bowl of homemade soup she'd made herself, spooning it to his lips one careful sip at a time.

The caption read: "Thank you for giving me the best of everything."

I let out a hollow laugh.

And here I'd been, afraid of creating friction with him.

I'd worked myself to the bone, day and night, building my company from nothing into something real, all so I could surprise her one day.

But watching the way she looked at him now, I realized how pathetic I'd been.

She had never once treated me like a husband.

After all, that was how it had always been.

Whatever Dylan wanted, she gave him.

And me? She always called me childish.

Whatever Dylan said, she believed without question.

And me? In her eyes, I was nothing but a useless deadbeat. No ambition. No skills. No worth.

In her eyes, I probably ranked lower than a dog.

Just then, a message came in from one of my people.

"Mr. Dickerson, we've smoothed things over with the tax authorities on the Pruitt Corp side. But they're saying the company evaded a significant amount in taxes, and there's a major audit coming in the next couple of days. We'd need to put up twenty million to plug the gap."

I shook my head. "Forget it. Redirect that twenty million into the new project investment."

"But Pruitt Corp"

"We're done cleaning up Pruitt Corp's messes."

After I was discharged from the hospital, I'd planned to head back down south.

But the trains had been suspended unexpectedly. Service wouldn't resume for another week.

With nothing better to do, I made my way to Pruitt Corp.

Back when Kathleen first started the company, I'd run myself ragged pulling in major clients for her, then handed them over without a second thought. Even when she later reassigned them to Dylan, I hadn't said a word.

During those early days, I'd heard the company was strapped for cash. I'd quietly funneled a deal worth tens of millions under Pruitt Corp's name.

I'd planned to tell her about it later, make it a surprise.

But now, there was no point.

Sales and Finance operated independently. The finance team would've assumed the project was something the sales department had landed on their own.

If I wanted to reclaim it, I needed to verify the revenue status first.

But the moment I walked through the doors, I ran into Dylan.

He strolled toward me, that familiar sneer curling across his face.

"Arthur, Kathleen said you had nowhere else to go, so you'd definitely show up here. And look at thathere you are."

He'd dropped all pretense now, fangs fully bared. I saw no reason to play nice either.

"You went through a lot of trouble for that VP title," I said flatly.

A smug grin spread across his face. "Can you blame me? You're better than me in every way. If I didn't get creative, I didn't stand a chance against you."

Then he leaned in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur.

"Oh, by the wayKathleen already told the Galloways I'm their new point of contact. Day after tomorrow, I'll be sitting down with them to discuss the partnership."

His grin widened. "I heard the Galloways were the client you spent three years chasing down south. You finally landed them, brought them back, and Kathleen handed them straight to me. How does that feel, Arthur?"

When I was down south, I'd worked for three years to close the Galloway account. The first thing I did when I came back was hand it to my wife.

She'd turned around and given it to Dylan.

Standing there now, watching the petty triumph plastered across his face, a nameless fury ignited in my chest.

I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward.

But at that exact moment, Kathleen appeared at the top of the staircase. She saw everything.

"What the hell are you doing?!" she screamed. "Let go of him!"

She rushed over, shoved me hard, and pulled Dylan behind her like a shield.

Her eyes locked onto mine, burning with hatred, as if she were staring down her worst enemy.

"Dylan earned that VP position on his own merit, and you keep trying to hurt him! How did I end up married to someone so vicious?!"

Then she turned to Dylan, her voice shifting to something soft and urgent. "Dylan, are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

Dylan shook his head, playing the wounded puppy to perfection.

"It's fine, Kathleen. Arthur's just having a hard time accepting that I made VP. He's struggling with it, that's all."

He paused, his voice going quieter. "Please don't blame him."

Kathleen shot me one last look, heavy with disappointment.

Then she took Dylan by the arm and led him away.

I caught the tail end of her voice as they disappeared down the hall.

"Dylan, didn't you say you wanted a dog? I got you a Labrador."

I watched their figures vanish from sight, my gaze cold and still, before I finally looked away.

The office had emptied out by then. Everyone had gone home.

It took me hours of digging through files before I finally pinpointed the exact status of that project.

But in the process, I uncovered something else. A year ago, Kathleen had siphoned company funds to buy Dylan a yachtall to keep him happy.

He sold it later, once the novelty wore off.

But the transaction had been buriedhidden from every official record.

I kept digging. I found several more cases just like it.

The amount of tax that had been evaded was staggering.

Last year, a friend had tipped me off that Pruitt Corp was involved in tax fraud. I'd spent an enormous amount of time and resources covering for Kathleen.

But this time, I wasn't going to stick my neck out for her again.

The train wouldn't be running for a few more days, so I checked into a small hotel to wait.

The following evening, Kathleen somehow tracked down where I was staying.

I'd barely stepped outside when they blocked my path.

The moment she saw me, she let out a contemptuous laugh.

"Without me, this is the best you can do? Some roadside motel."

"At the end of the day, you're nothing. A nobody who's never accomplished a single thing."

I ignored her and turned to leave.

But Dylan stepped in front of me.

"Arthur, come on, we're all family here. There's nothing we can't work out." He smiled, all warmth and reason. "I brought Kathleen to find you because I want to invite you to my inauguration ceremony."

"I already talked to Kathleen. I asked her to give you a zero-point-one percent share of the company."

"So stop making a fuss and come back with us. I don't like seeing you two fight."

Kathleen's voice was ice. "Arthur, Dylan is volunteering to give you a piece of his own shares. That's how generous he is. You should be grateful he's big enough to tolerate you."

"Zero point one percent?" I said.

"I don't need it."

I knocked Dylan's hand away. He stumbled backward on cue, hitting the ground. A scrape opened across his palm, blood welling up.

Kathleen exploded.

"Arthur, don't push your luck! If Dylan hadn't insisted I come get you, do you think I'd actually want you back?"

"You've bullied him for years, and now you have the nerve to put your hands on him right in front of me? I should never have bothered!"

"Since you don't want the shares, fine! You don't get them!"

"Let's see how long you last without me!"

Something about those words struck me as almost funny.

"You really don't hear how ridiculous you sound, do you?"

"When have you evereven onceactually seen me bully him?"

"Every single time, all he has to do is say something, and you believe him without question!"

"And this time, you lied to me for three years just so he could waltz into the VP position. You erased everything I did for that company!"

"That's what you call support?"

"Shut your mouth!"

Kathleen lunged forward, her hand swinging toward my face.

This time, I caught her wrist. I pushed her back.

Dylan rushed to steady her, then turned to me with tears brimming in his eyes.

"Arthur, Kathleen has been so good to you. Is this how you repay her?"

"Apologize to her. Now."

Then he turned to Kathleen, pleading on my behalf.

"Kathleen, he didn't mean it. He's just upset that you gave me the VP position instead of him."

"Maybe I should just give the title to Arthur."

Kathleen stopped him, her expression dark. "Dylan, you don't need to speak for him."

"He's an ungrateful snake. That's all he's ever been."

Then she gave me her ultimatum.

"Arthur, I'm giving you one last chance. Tomorrow is Dylan's inauguration ceremony. You're going to show up with a proper gift, kneel in front of everyone, and apologize to Dylan. Do that, and you can keep your title as my husband. Refuse, and don't expect any mercy from me."

I lowered my head. A laugh shook through me.

"Well then, I suppose I should thank you for your generosity."

She smirked. "Of course. After all, I'm the one who gave you everything."

She took Dylan's arm and got into the car.

I watched them drive away, a cold smile on my face.

Then I turned and headed for the Galloways.

The next day, inside a luxury hotel.

Dylan Henson arrived at the ceremony in a tailored designer suit, basking in the admiration of everyone around him.

Kathleen held his arm, her gaze warm and tender. "Dylan, once you're officially named Vice President, you'll help me run the company."

Dylan nodded eagerly, then glanced toward the entrance.

"Kathleen, it's been a while now. How come Arthur still isn't here? He's not still upset, is he?" He paused. "Maybe I should give him a call."

Disgust flickered through Kathleen's eyes.

"Don't bother with him. I already gave him his chance. If he can't be bothered to show up, I'm filing for divorce."

The words had barely left her mouth when one of her employees rushed over.

"Ms. Pruitt, we have a problem. An IRS enforcement vehicle just pulled up outside our headquarters. They're saying the company has been evading taxes, and they need you to come in for an investigation."