After Slapping the Secretary Thrice, My CEO Husband Fell Silent

1: 1

I met my husband, Greg Sanchez, through an arranged marriage.

He was capable at his work and considerate toward me. As arranged-marriage partners went, I was satisfied.

As long as he kept the line drawn, we would get along just fine.

But then, out of nowhere, he let his little secretary step over it.

The first time, the little secretary took my passenger seat. I slapped her across the face.

And I warned Greg.

"That's once."

At a business dinner, Greg peeled a shrimp for his little secretary. I slapped her twice.

And warned Greg, "That's twice."

The last time, the little secretary put on my pajamas.

I didn't say a word. I slapped her three times.

"As long as I'm still here, you don't get to be Mrs. Sanchez."

Greg, who had shielded his little secretary every single time, was silent this time.

Maybe he remembered what I'd said before.

Three strikes. If a third slap ever landed, it would be time for a divorce.

I turned and walked away.

The little secretary stayed where she was, sniveling.

"Mr. Sanchez, your wife hit me, my whole face is swollen, and you're just going to let it go?"

This time, Greg didn't comfort her.

Instead he came rushing after me, his hand clamping around my wrist.

"I was in the wrong this time, Lottie Delgado. She got caught in the rain, her clothes were soaked, she only put on your pajamas because there was nothing else."

"Can't we just pretend none of this happened?"

Greg was always a force to be reckoned with out in the world. He rarely let his voice go this low, this pleading.

I pulled my hand free, cold.

"Greg, you should know by now, I don't joke around."

He stared at me for a long moment, and a thread of impatience crept into his voice.

"Lottie, don't take this too far."

"You already slapped her three times and got it out of your system. Let this go now. Be reasonable."

What a perfect little pivot from courtesy to threat.

His tone left no room for argument, as if I were nothing more than a partner across a negotiating table.

But he'd forgotten.

He'd forgotten who he had to thank for the seat he sat in today.

I let out a cold breath and turned to leave.

At the far end of the hallway, his bodyguards suddenly lined up in a row, blocking my path.

I turned my head and looked at Greg.

"What is this supposed to mean?"

"Lottie, we've been husband and wife for three years. We've gotten along well all this time. And you want a divorce over something this small?"

"I told you. Three strikes."

I lifted my eyes to him. "First the passenger seat, then the shrimp, then the pajamas. I don't think I've wronged you at all."

His throat moved, and he frowned as he explained.

"Those were all accidents."

"Accidents?"

I laughed. "The passenger seat was an accident, the shrimp was an accident, and her wearing my pajamas was an accident too?"

"You're the one who handed her the chance to overstep, Greg. You're a smart man. You should understand exactly what I mean."

He fell silent.

I finally pulled my hand free.

"I'll have my lawyer draft the divorce agreement. Sign it or don't. This marriage is ending either way."

Greg chased a few steps after me, calling my name in a hoarse voice.

I didn't answer.

I walked straight out into the rain.

I didn't go back that night. I went alone to a dinner to negotiate a contract.

At two in the morning, I stepped outside for some air, and only then saw that Greg had called me seventeen times.

The eighteenth time, it happened to connect.

"Lottie, where are you? The housekeeper said you weren't home, I came to the company and couldn't find you either. Send me your location, I'll come get you."

I spoke calmly.

"No need."

"Stop sulking. I can explain about today..."

"I said, no need."

Greg was getting anxious.

"What do I have to do to make you come back?"

"Greg," I said softly, "how long have you known me?"

He paused.

"Three years and three months."

I said it flatly. "Then you should know I don't like to say the same thing a third time."

I hung up.

The next day, Grandma Sanchez called my mother.

My mom came rushing over to my apartment and burst in without even knocking.

"Lottie, what on earth are you doing? Your mother-in-law just called. She said you hit Greg's secretary?"

I was at the mirror putting on lipstick. I had to make a trip to the company.

"I did. Three times."

My mom's mouth fell open in shock.

"You, you're just admitting it like that?"

"Mom knows you're not the kind of person who makes a scene for no reason, and besides, married couples fight and make up. If it weren't something serious..."

"Mom, if you came here to talk me into going back, then don't."

"But you have to have a reason, don't you? I've met that Greg boy. He's so gracious with people. How does he come out of your mouth sounding like the worst kind of villain?"

I turned around.

"He let his secretary sit in my passenger seat. He peeled shrimp for her at a dinner. His secretary stood in our bedroom wearing my pajamas."

My mom's mouth opened and closed.

"This..."

"So." I picked up my bag. "I want a divorce."

"Lottie, why don't you think it over some more? None of what you're describing is really that serious. Maybe Greg had no choice, given the circumstances."

"And besides, the Sanchez family and ours, after all..."

"Mom." I cut her off. "My name is Delgado, not Sanchez."

There was no reason to be thinking on the Sanchez family's behalf.

Just then, my assistant called.

Her voice was a little cautious.

"Ms. Delgado, have you seen tonight's headlines?"

"Mr. Sanchez didn't get your approval, and he actually took Secretary Pruitt to the gala!"

2: 2

I sat there for a moment.

"Push the headline to me."

A few seconds later, a news headline landed on my phone.

The cover photo showed Greg Sanchez and Agnes Pruitt in formal wear, arm in arm.

My hand curled into a fist.

Greg really had lost his head. We weren't even divorced yet, and he already dared to make this big a scene with his little secretary.

Once this story hit the front page, the stock would crash within two days.

I went to the gala.

Every spotlight in the room seemed to turn toward me.

Agnes actually still wanted to make trouble, and stepped on the hem of my gown on purpose.

"Mrs. Sanchez, Mr. Sanchez and I are only here on business today."

"A married woman like you really shouldn't come running over here to sulk and throw jealous fits."

She ground her teeth quietly, scheming, wanting to watch me humiliate myself in front of everyone.

I laughed coldly inside.

Cheap tricks like this, I'd seen them all as a child.

I reached over, picked up the red wine beside me, and threw it in Agnes's face.

"Ah!" The sudden splash left Agnes a mess.

"Mrs. Sanchez, why are you doing this to me? How did I ever offend you?"

I lifted my eyes coldly.

"Starting today, you're fired."

"Consider this your final warning."

"I'm Ms. Delgado, not any Mrs. Sanchez."

"If you think you can bait me into losing my temper with a stunt like that, you've badly miscalculated."

With that, I turned and walked away.

But Greg's face went dark. He took off his jacket and draped it over Agnes, then took a tissue and wiped the wine from her face.

"Lottie Delgado, you went way too far just now!"

He came after me.

"This whole thing was mine to handle and I handled it badly. Because of me, she took several slaps from you."

"You were the one who said you weren't coming to the gala today, so I brought Agnes along."

"Why is it that you won't even grant me this one small thing?"

Greg's eyes reddened as he shouted at me.

"I only ever treated her like a little sister. When did you turn this petty and small-minded?"

"Have you ever once had any regard for me at all?"

"Little sister?"

I repeated the words, rolling them over the edge of my teeth.

"Greg Sanchez, when did you gain a little sister I never knew about?"

"Is she really a little sister, or a sweetheart?"

My voice wasn't low, and it drew stares from all around.

"Enough!"

Greg suddenly gripped my arm, anger flickering in his eyes, and pulled me toward the exit.

"Lottie Delgado, I used to think you had a sense of proportion, that you knew what mattered."

"You're the high and mighty Ms. Delgado, and the Mrs. Sanchez everyone envies. Why lower yourself to fight with a secretary?"

I glanced down at the hand clamped on me. "Let go."

Greg froze, seemingly rattled by the ice in my eyes, and slowly loosened his grip.

"Are you really in this much of a hurry?"

I looked at him with a cold smile.

"So much of a hurry that you drag your little secretary into everyone's view, without a single thought for the stock dropping?"

"You don't care, but I do."

Songzhi Group was something I built with my own hands.

It holds everything I've poured into it. I won't let it all go to ruin over a worthless man and a scheming woman.

"The divorce agreement will be at your office tomorrow afternoon."

I lifted my eyes coldly to him.

"One more thing, Greg Sanchez,"

"You're always asking why, back then, I chose you as my arranged marriage partner."

"It was because you had principles, a sense of boundaries, and you never crossed the line."

"But right now, I'm disappointed."

Greg looked nailed to the spot by that.

I'd already walked several steps before he snapped out of it and tried to catch up.

"Lottie"

He'd taken only a few steps when Agnes gave a soft cry and slumped into his arms.

"Mr. Sanchez, I think I just twisted my ankle"

Greg looked up at me, wanting to say something and stopping himself, then could only crouch down and rub Agnes's foot.

"Let me help you over there to sit. Don't move around."

A few guests nearby were watching curiously, phones raised, filming them.

Greg had no idea, or maybe just didn't care.

And I watched the whole thing, cold.

I called my lawyer.

"Draft the divorce agreement for me, and pay special attention to the asset division."

"Yes, the faster the better."

Only, the next day, before the divorce agreement even reached Greg's office,

the little secretary Agnes stirred up fresh trouble.

That day I'd just signed a contract, hadn't even warmed my seat, when my assistant came rushing over in a panic.

"Ms. Delgado, we have a problem!"

"Secretary Pruitt caused a huge mess yesterday. She sent our cost price to a client as if it were the price sheet."

"Now the client is demanding to close the deal at cost, or else we're in breach, and breach means paying triple the penalty!"

3: 3

My face went cold in an instant.

"Has this been verified? Is it real?"

If the deal closed at cost price, we'd take a pure loss. The costs of the other stages alone came to more than that.

And if it went to breach of contract, the penalty was triple. Fifty million, at the very least.

I put down what I was working on right then and went to Greg for an explanation.

By the time I reached his office, the air in the room was heavy, a ring of people gathered around.

Agnes stood in the center of the office, her eyes red-rimmed.

"It was so late by the time I finished the gala with Mr. Sanchez last night, and I was exhausted, half-asleep, and I sent the wrong document by mistake"

Agnes looked the picture of injured innocence, her voice thick with tears.

"It was my mistake. I let everyone down."

"Your mistake, and one flimsy little sorry settles it?"

I kicked the door open and spoke coldly.

"Agnes, do you have any idea how big a loss your one careless move cost this company?"

When she saw it was me, her eyes went even redder, her voice breaking.

"Ms. Delgado, you can't put all the blame on me. Whoever sent me those documents didn't sort them out clearly in the first place."

"And last night, last night I was so tired"

"None of that is an excuse!"

I said it coldly, and before I could finish, Greg cut in with a frown. "Enough."

He stepped forward. "Agnes is just a secretary. Why are you giving her such a hard time?"

"The fault here is mine. I didn't check it properly. Agnes only did the work in my place. She shouldn't be blamed."

Greg lifted his head and said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Besides, the Sanchez family has plenty of money. We can cover that penalty."

"Lottie, you can't just fire an employee because they made a mistake."

"That kind of attitude is too coldhearted. It'll break the spirit of our long-time staff."

The way he talked, you'd think he cared so deeply about his employees.

And it left me hung out to dry.

I let out a cold laugh and gestured to the other colleagues gathered around the office.

"Greg, there's nothing wrong with your ears, is there?"

"If you're not deaf, then listen closely to what everyone here is saying."

"If you don't fire Agnes today, that's what'll break the hearts of every other hardworking, long-time employee."

Only then did Greg finally hear the voices of the crowd.

Agnes had thrown her weight around again and again, and it had long since stirred everyone's anger.

One after another, they demanded that Agnes be fired.

"Fine. So this is what all of you think."

Greg's face darkened, and he lifted his eyes to me.

"Lottie Delgado, I had no idea you'd already bought off every single employee in this company."

"Fine. You all want Agnes gone? Then I'll grant your wish."

To let the storm blow over, Greg dismissed Agnes.

That same afternoon, he sent her off to the branch office in the next city.

But at the same time, Greg all but vanished for a solid week.

The next time I caught sight of him was in Agnes's social media feed.

"Mr. Sanchez is amazing! I caused all that trouble, and not only did he not say one harsh word to me, he took me on a company-paid trip, took me to Disneyland, put me up in a luxury hotel for free. Living the dream!"

My assistant happened to see it and complained, furious.

"How can there be someone this shameless in the whole world?"

"Ms. Delgado, ever since the group fired her, Agnes has been more brazen than before."

"Does a person like her have even a shred of decency or shame?"

"Whether she has decency and shame or not."

I calmly closed my phone and went on sorting the files on my desk.

"She'll never get another cent out of me."

"A trivial thing like this isn't worth my attention."

"What matters right now is finalizing the asset division and pulling my capital back."

I didn't give it the slightest attention. I just kept working on the asset division.

Doing everything I could to withdraw all of the Delgado investment stake as fast as possible.

That evening, I was scrolling through my phone, looking up some information.

Then, out of nowhere, Agnes's face popped up on my screen. She'd started a livestream.

The title read, in bold:

"I Was Slapped Three Times by a Rich Man's Wife, and Now the Whole Internet Knows What I've Suffered."

In the livestream, Agnes wore loose loungewear, an obvious handprint still marked on her face.

It actually made me laugh.

The whole thing had been over for nearly a week. A week ago Agnes was still strutting around the company.

Now here she was, digging it back up to play the victim.

She sniffled into the camera, tears falling one drop at a time, dabbing pitifully at the corner of her mouth.

"I know I'm not worthy. I'm just Mr. Sanchez's secretary, a workhorse grinding overtime to make a living"

"That day I got caught in the rain, and Mr. Sanchez told me to go change. I really didn't know it was Mrs. Sanchez's nightgown"

"She hit me, and I didn't hit back, because I knew her status was higher than mine. All I could do was take it"

"I don't get overtime pay. I stay late with my boss for nothing, and then at the gala Lottie Delgado, that jealous woman, threw red wine on me. I've been so wronged I could die"

The comments scrolled by fast.

"That rich wife is way too out of line! She's honestly sick, thinking every young girl wants her husband."

"Why won't Mr. Sanchez protect you? Damn, that's such a pathetic way to earn a living."

"Sis, call the police already!"

I watched for ten seconds, and it just made me laugh.

I exited the livestream and dialed my lawyer.

"Rex Chavez, I need you to draft two documents for me."

4: 4

"The first covers Ms. Agnes Pruitt, an employee of Songzhi Group, breaching her confidentiality agreement while employed and leaking photo and video evidence of the company's internal event."

"The second is a formal legal notice regarding her defamation of my reputation on social media."

The man on the other end nodded.

"Ms. Delgado, I saw that livestream. The statute of limitations is fine. I'll need about two business days."

"Good."

I hung up and pulled the livestream back up for a look.

The viewer count had already passed three hundred thousand.

Agnes was crying even harder now, her voice full of the broken sound of someone pushed around and abused.

I smiled, took a few screenshots, and sent them to Greg's private number.

"Your precious little sister is out here milking you for sympathy on a livestream. Fun, isn't it?"

"Look at that fake, saccharine act of hers. Do you still think she's so pitiful?"

Less than two minutes after I sent it, Greg was calling.

I tossed the phone onto the sofa and went to the bathroom to splash some water on my face.

By the time I came out, the livestream had already been shut down.

There were five messages from Greg waiting on my phone:

"I just saw it."

"I already made her shut it down."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know she was doing something like this."

"Lottie, let me explain"

The last one: "I'll come see you myself tomorrow."

The next morning, Greg didn't come.

Grandma Sanchez did.

She sat on the sofa in my office, dressed grand and elegant.

"Lottie."

She unscrewed her thermos and took a slow sip.

"I saw what was online. That little secretary, I've already had Greg fire her."

"Grandma Sanchez," I said, sitting down across from her, "if you've come today to patch things up, you'd do better to save your breath."

The old woman sighed.

"That boy Greg has a soft heart. He told me this Agnes girl was an orphan. When he hired her, he saw how hard she had it, so he looked out for her a little more. He never imagined it would blow up into this."

"Lottie, you're a good girl too. You two have been married three years now. There's no need to go breaking up over something this small, is there?"

So Grandma Sanchez had heard about the divorce too.

I listened in silence while she went on, then gave a small smile.

"Grandma Sanchez, back when you were closing deals in business, did any of your rivals ever try the sob story on you?"

The hand holding the thermos paused slightly.

Those shrewd eyes fixed on me for a full five seconds before she smiled again.

"You're right, Lottie. People like us, the one thing we should never fall for is a sob story."

"But Lottie, you and Greg are a marriage alliance. Do you know what an alliance is? It's two families bound together to build a life."

"You blow up over something like this, threatening divorce and pulling your capital, and the Sanchezs take the hit. Does that mean the Delgados' stock is going to climb?"

I pushed the teacup in front of me aside and spoke calmly.

"Grandma, you're talking about interests. I'm talking about rules."

"Back when the alliance was made, the agreement my grandfather signed with you had more than just the financial terms. There was a clause too: both sides keep to their boundaries and do nothing that costs the other their dignity. Do you remember it?"

The old woman's lips moved, and her expression finally shifted.

"Agnes in the passenger seat, her shrimp peeled for her, wearing my nightgown. Three times already. I warned Greg. Three strikes and that's it."

I stood, came around the desk, and made to see her out.

"I gave Greg his chance. He's the one who wouldn't hold onto it."

"And what's more, that week he vanished, he spent it with Agnes."

"He may not have agreed to it out loud, but he's already made his choice, hasn't he?"

The old woman rose slowly and looked for a long moment at the social media photo in my hand.

In the end she conceded, sighing with regret.

"Fine. You young people and your affairs. I'm old. This is beyond me now."

Grandma Sanchez said nothing more and left.

Several quiet days followed, calm and uneventful.

Until the day I was told the investment capital had been successfully withdrawn.

I nodded, thoroughly satisfied, and told everyone at Songzhi Group.

"Two days of paid leave for all of you."

"And there's a company dinner tonight. Anyone who wants to come is welcome. Five-star restaurant."

A good number of them were longtime staff I'd brought over from the Delgados. Now that Songzhi Group was going under.

Of course I meant to bring them back with me.

That very day, Greg had gotten Agnes settled and was on his way back to sit down and talk things through with me properly.

But he'd barely made it to the office, travel-worn.

Before his assistant told him.

"Mr. Sanchez, it's bad. Songzhi Group's funds have all been frozen! And all the investment capital the Delgados poured in has been pulled out too"