When A Business Marriage Implodes

When A Business Marriage Implodes

Cry Out Loud

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The picture on my phone was a punch to the gut. It showed my husband, Julian Vance, the cold, untouchable tech CEO, smiling genuinely at a young woman I' d never seen before, his hand resting on her shoulder. This wasn't his public, polished smile for the cameras. It was something real, something he hadn' t directed at me in years. My seemingly stable world tilted on its axis, unraveling years of accepted emotional distance. "Lily Chen. Struggling artist," the private investigator' s text read below the photo. I knew our five-year marriage was a business arrangement, but I thought Julian was emotionally detached from everyone. I thought wrong. That night, at the annual Vance Technologies gala, I confronted him. His eyes, usually unreadable, flickered with annoyance before settling into their practiced mask. "Our marriage is a business arrangement, Scarlett. You knew that when you signed the papers." He handed me a divorce settlement, already drafted. "I want her. I will not have you in the way." I crumpled the paper. "And if I refuse?" A chilling ruthlessness crossed his face, not meant for a business rival, but for me. "Don' t make this difficult, Scarlett. You will lose." The next week was a nightmare as he systematically dismantled my family' s company, Hayes AI. Our top engineers were poached, contracts sabotaged, stock plummeting. The final blow came when Julian called, his voice emotionless. "I have your parents, Scarlett. They are safe, for now. Sign the papers. You have one hour." He sent a live video feed: my parents, tied to chairs, terrified. I drove frantically to his office, ready to sign. But as my pen touched the paper, Julian spoke one word into his earpiece. "Now." On screen, two masked men entered, brutally ending my parents' lives. The world went black. Then, I gasped, eyes flying open. I was in my bed. Sunlight streamed in. My phone buzzed. It was a notification from my PI. A photo had just arrived: Julian and Lily in her studio. It was the same day. The day it all started. I was back.

Introduction

The picture on my phone was a punch to the gut.

It showed my husband, Julian Vance, the cold, untouchable tech CEO, smiling genuinely at a young woman I' d never seen before, his hand resting on her shoulder.

This wasn't his public, polished smile for the cameras. It was something real, something he hadn' t directed at me in years.

My seemingly stable world tilted on its axis, unraveling years of accepted emotional distance.

"Lily Chen. Struggling artist," the private investigator' s text read below the photo.

I knew our five-year marriage was a business arrangement, but I thought Julian was emotionally detached from everyone.

I thought wrong.

That night, at the annual Vance Technologies gala, I confronted him.

His eyes, usually unreadable, flickered with annoyance before settling into their practiced mask.

"Our marriage is a business arrangement, Scarlett. You knew that when you signed the papers."

He handed me a divorce settlement, already drafted.

"I want her. I will not have you in the way."

I crumpled the paper.

"And if I refuse?"

A chilling ruthlessness crossed his face, not meant for a business rival, but for me.

"Don' t make this difficult, Scarlett. You will lose."

The next week was a nightmare as he systematically dismantled my family' s company, Hayes AI.

Our top engineers were poached, contracts sabotaged, stock plummeting.

The final blow came when Julian called, his voice emotionless.

"I have your parents, Scarlett. They are safe, for now. Sign the papers. You have one hour."

He sent a live video feed: my parents, tied to chairs, terrified.

I drove frantically to his office, ready to sign.

But as my pen touched the paper, Julian spoke one word into his earpiece.

"Now."

On screen, two masked men entered, brutally ending my parents' lives.

The world went black.

Then, I gasped, eyes flying open.

I was in my bed. Sunlight streamed in. My phone buzzed.

It was a notification from my PI.

A photo had just arrived: Julian and Lily in her studio.

It was the same day. The day it all started.

I was back.

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