He Gave My Position to His Protégée, So I Took Back the Company

After three years at the branch office, I finally got the transfer order back to headquarters.

On my first day, I'd barely signed the contract when I discovered that the director position I'd been promised had turned into a team lead role.

I sat in the stairwell, hands trembling, and typed out five hundred words asking my husband, Carl Greer, why.

But when the message went through, all I got back was seven words.

Keep it to work matters. Report to your supervisor.

A second later, a message pinged in the company-wide group chat, tagging everyone. It was from Marina Pruitt.

Thank you all for looking after me these past six months. I've ordered afternoon treats for everyone, help yourselves in the eighth-floor conference room~

Right after, Carl dropped a cash gift in the group.

Congratulations, Director Marina.

My coworkers' voices drifted in from the hallway.

"Some people are just lucky."

"Well, she's Mr. Greer's protge. All she had to do was say she wanted to give it a shot, and the appointment landed in her lap."

I stood frozen where I was, my eyes stinging.

Back when Carl first started the company, there'd been a project that was practically in the bag, only to get snatched away at the last second.

We found out later the other person had connections.

After the company went public, he laid down an ironclad rule about personnel appointments: the moment he caught favoritism, no mercy.

So I'd worked myself to the bone, clawing my way up on my own.

And in the end, no praisejust someone stepping over me.

And the one who orchestrated it, it turned out, was him.

Fine. If that was how it was, I didn't want the position or the man.

I forced down the ache in my throat and finished drafting my resignation letter.

Staring at the send button, in the end, I still wanted a clear answer.

Eight years together, four of them building this company with him, three of them at the branch office.

For those three years, I'd run team management on my own, kept retention as high as ninety-five percent, and brought in over a hundred million dollars in investment for the company.

And now I'd been stepped over by someone with no track record to speak of.

And the reason? Just that she wanted to give it a try.

But I wanted to hear the answer from his own mouth.

I punched in the elevator code for the top floor: 0924, the day his company took off.

The elevator rose slowly, the whole city spreading out below me.

I saw the old apartment building where Carl and I had once crammed together, dreaming up our future, fine-tuning plans, hunched over a secondhand laptop watching the market charts.

He'd promised me he'd give me the best of everything.

But once the company went public, he'd moved our marriage underground and sent me off to the branch office.

He said a lot of companies ran into trouble because of a married couple at the top.

He also wanted me to get more seasoning, not just stand beside him because of our relationship.

I agreed.

Now the old building had been torn down, and a new shopping district stood in its place.

And I'd done everything I set out to do.

But this was how it turned out.

The elevator stopped on the twenty-eighth floor and opened with a ding.

The moment I stepped out, I saw Carl at the counter, patiently guiding Marina's hand with a pen.

"Isn't it a lot clearer this way?"

"Don't rush. Take your time."

"There's a roadshow in a few days. You'll be running the whole thing then."

"Mr. Greer, I don't have any experience coordinating a big event like that. If something goes wrong" Marina let the words trail off.

"Don't be scared. Just go for it, boldly."

Carl looked at her, his expression soft.

"No experience? Then you'll make some."

"As it happens, that finance instructor you like will be there too. You can get a photo with him then, give yourself a little motivation."

The late-autumn sunlight streamed through the windows and fell over me.

And yet I'd never felt colder in my life.

All these years, he had never once handed me an opportunity of my own.

Once, a businesswoman I deeply admired was giving a talk at a forum.

The company had received an invitation from the organizers.

Back then, I'd just closed a three-million-dollar project, and I wanted Carl to take me along to the follow-up. Instead, he said he needed to avoid the appearance of favoritism.

Angry, I pressed him. Nobody around us knew we were together. What appearance was there to avoid?

His face darkened.

"Olivia Cooley, the workplace is for building a career, not for chasing after someone like a fan."

"And not every woman has that kind of potential."

From that day on, I carried the whole "avoiding favoritism" thing through to the end.

No matter how hard it rained, I never rode in his car to or from work.

In meetings, I wouldn't spare him a second glance.

In the elevator, I kept my distance.

I always thought the rule he held me to was the same rule he held for everyone else.

But now, Marina had shattered all of that.

Marina answered sweetly.

"Of course, Mr. Greer. I'll go get it ready right now."

Then she turned, and her eyes met mine.

"Olivia"

I didn't look at her. I walked straight into Carl's office, sat down on the sofa, and tossed my employment contract onto the desk.

"I want an explanation."

He frowned.

"The contract spells it out clearly."

I let out a soft laugh.

"Three years, and all you give me is a team lead position?"

"Carl, did you call me back just so I could watch you flirt with your little protge?"

His voice dropped low.

"Olivia, what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking nonsense?"

I met those sharp, cutting eyes of his.

"Then why does the whole company know she's your protge, but no one knows I'm your wife?"

"Carl, am I really so unpresentable?"

As the last words left my mouth, my chest felt stuffed full of cotton.

My nose stung, and the tears fell before I could stop them.

I hated that after all these years I still couldn't break the habit of crying at moments like this. I turned away to wipe my eyes.

When I turned back, Carl was watching me with a perfectly calm expression, like he was looking at a madwoman.

"Olivia, you're not some girl fresh out of school anymore. Don't bring your emotions into the office."

He picked up the phone in his hand, his tone gentle.

"I'll go with you. Wait for me in the parking garage. That guy's a slippery old hand, you can't handle him on your own."

Then he took a bottle of peach-flavored water from the mini fridge, twisted it open, and set it on the desk in front of me.

"When you've calmed down, we'll talk."

The door closed, and the whole floor fell silent.

I threw that bottle of peach water into the trash.

He'd forgotten. I was allergic to anything with peach in it.

The Carl from eight years ago was gone.

When I dragged my suitcase home, I found Carl's car parked downstairs, the lights on inside the apartment.

I keyed in my fingerprint. Wrong the first time. Wrong the second.

Just as I was about to try a third time, the door opened.

A head poked out. It was Marina.

When she saw it was me, she looked a little surprised.

"Olivia what are you doing here?"

I curled my lips.

"I'm coming home to my own apartment. Is there a problem?"

"Your apartment?"

She smiled.

"You must be mistaken. This is the employee housing the company gave me. Have you been away so long you came to the wrong place?"

I shoved the door open and gave a cold laugh.

"I have been away a long time, but not long enough to forget my own home."

"Should I call the police and have someone come verify it?"

Carl came out of the bathroom, one hand drying his hair, the other dragging my suitcase inside.

When he saw me, his expression didn't change, his tone offhand.

"You weren't here these past few years, so I've been staying in our marriage home. The place was sitting empty."

"Marina had just graduated and had nowhere to land, so I let her move in."

I walked a slow circle through the apartment.

Everything I'd taken such care to arrange before I left had been dumped into the storage room, the cookware tossed into a cabinet in a chaotic heap.

The coats in the bedroom closet had been crammed into bags, crushed out of shape.

And Father's memorial portrait, which had stood on the living room cabinet, had been shoved into a drawer stuffed with junk, thick with dust.

I lifted it out with careful hands, wiped it clean with my sleeve, and turned a hard stare on Marina.

"Why did you touch my father's portrait?"

Marina shrank back, her eyes reddening in an instant, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, Olivia, I didn't mean to..."

"I live here alone. Every time I walked in and saw a memorial portrait, it scared me!"

"It scared you, but you still moved in?"

"Enough!"

Carl cut me off, his voice sharp.

"Olivia, it's one photo. Do you really have to blow this up into some big principle?"

"She's young, she gets frightened. What's the harm in putting it away?"

"One photo?"

I let out a cold laugh, my eyes fixed on him.

"Say that again while you're looking straight at my father. Go ahead."

He fell silent for a few seconds, then his tone softened.

"All right, don't be angry. This one's on me."

"I should have said something to you beforehand."

And with that he reached for my hand.

"You've been on a plane all morning, running back and forth to the office. You must be exhausted. Rest first."

"I've already made up the spare room for you."

I froze for a moment, wondering if I'd misheard him.

I pulled my hand out of his, and when I spoke, my throat had gone tight.

"You want me in the spare room?"

There was a flicker of impatience under his eyes, but his voice stayed coaxing.

"Tomorrow I'll switch you back myself. Just give Marina tonight."

"Carl! Don't push this too far!"

My chest was heaving.

"This is premarital property my father left me. It has nothing to do with you."

"I'm not giving anything up, and I'm not letting her stay another night."

I raised my eyes, glanced at my watch, and turned to Marina.

"It's eight now. Before nine thirty, I want you out of my home."

"Otherwise, I'll charge you with unlawful occupancy."

"Olivia, so now you're drawing lines between what's yours and what's mine?"

Carl tossed the towel onto the couch and looked at me coldly.

"I'm only doing it now. You've been doing it all along."

I didn't look at him. I took gloves and a mask out of a drawer and walked into the bedroom.

I threw every one of Marina's things out.

Then I hung up my own clothes, piece by piece.

Marina stood rooted where she was, at a loss.

It wasn't until I hurled the last item out that she rushed over, scooped it into her arms, tears falling in fat drops.

Her whole face crumpled as she looked at me.

"Olivia, I know you're angry, but you can't just throw out the keepsakes my grandmother left me!"

I watched that pitiful little display of hers, wiped my hands with a look of pure dread.

"You were scared of my father's portrait, so of course I'm scared of your grandmother's keepsakes too!"

"So there's nothing to do but throw them out."

Marina had no comeback. She began stuffing her things into a suitcase one by one, and turned to the grim-faced Carl, her voice catching.

"Mr. Greer, I'm sorry for the trouble."

"I'll go now."

Thunder cracked, and the rain came down hard.

Carl snatched up his car keys and strode for the door.

I watched his retreating back and asked.

"Where are you going?"

He turned back, his eyes full of disappointment.

"When did you become so heartless? Didn't you used to worry about stray cats getting hurt on rainy days?"

"With the typhoon making everything so dangerous right now, aren't you afraid something will happen if you throw her out this late at night?"

I curled up on the couch and gave a small nod.

"You can go."

"Once you walk out that door, don't come back with regrets."

His steps hitched. He didn't turn around.

That night, Carl didn't come home.

I spent the whole night restoring this place piece by piece, and when I got to the bathroom, I found that the drawer held not just Marina's tampons but Carl's razor as well.

On the counter sat two cups for their toothbrushes, the classic pink-and-blue set for couples.

I stared at all of it, and a sudden wave of discomfort washed over me, though I couldn't say why.

In all our years dating and married, he had never mixed his things in with mine, and he certainly never used matching couples' items with me.

I looked toward the living room, and it seemed every corner carried traces of a life they had lived together.

These past six months, had this apartment been Marina living alone, or the two of them playing house?

The answer came from the rain pouring down outside the window.

I threw everything into a garbage bag and hauled it out.

I disinfected the whole place, changed the door locks, and only lay down once the sky was starting to lighten.

Early the next morning, I was woken by knocking at the door.

I opened it to find Carl.

In his arms he held a bouquet of flowers and a small cake.

This scene had happened once, many years ago.

It left me a little dazed.

Back then, he had done it to cheer me up.

And now?

He set the flowers and cake on the table.

"That cake shop you love the most. Eat a little before you sleep."

I sat down and opened the box.

When I saw the peach filling on top, I sank back, drained.

"Carl, first peach water, now a peach cake. Do you not know I'm allergic?"

A flicker of awkwardness crossed his face.

"I'm sorry. It's been so long since I bought it, I forgot."

"I'll order you some delivery."

"No need."

I picked up my laptop, and right in front of him I submitted the notice rejecting the position change, then sent my resignation letter to his email.

"When you have a moment, Mr. Greer, please approve it."

His expression darkened.

"Olivia, are you still throwing a fit?"

"If you feel your current position doesn't match your abilities, then wait until next year, when the spot in the market management department opens up."

"But I don't want to wait anymore."

"You're twenty-nine now. In a couple of years we'll be trying for a baby. Do you really think if you quit now, you'll be able to find a good job out there?"

"Carl!"

I lifted my eyes to him, my voice tight.

"A baby is something I have only if I want one. You don't get to make that decision!"

The year the company took off, I got pregnant by accident.

I waited until it was stable at three months, planning to tell him as a surprise.

Instead, he held me and told me to get rid of the baby.

I asked him why, and he said this was the prime age to fight for our careers.

Now, after everything it took me to get here, he had not only wrecked my career, he wanted to trap me at home too.

He froze for a moment, his voice muffled.

"If you quit now, your bonus from last quarter at the branch office will be void. Are you sure you want to resign?"

"I think I already made myself very clear a moment ago."

He took out his phone, typed a few lines, and two minutes later the request was approved.

Then he headed for the door.

"Over the next three days, hand off the resources and work for the projects you're currently on."