I Returned From Germany To Find My Husband’s Intern Splashing Coffee On Me And Calling Me A Servant. She Bragged About Being The Ceo’s Secret Wife While My Husband Stood There Pretending Not To Know Me. I Slowly Pulled Out The Documents Showing I Own 60% Of The Company And Prepared To Speak.
The Confrontation
The stark contrast between the two scenes—David on his knees, his shirt soaked with sweat as he saved a life, and this vapid intern putting on a ridiculous show for social media—made it impossible for me to remain a silent observer. I clenched the handle of my suitcase, took a deep, steadying breath to regain the composure of a leader, and took decisive steps toward the entrance.
I walked over to Henry and gently placed a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. He flinched, then looked up, his age-worn eyes widening in recognition. He was about to greet me as Chairwoman, but I quickly put a finger to my lips, signaling for him to remain silent.
I didn’t want my identity revealed just yet. I wanted to see how this little drama would play out. I turned to the girl, Tiffany, who was still absorbed in pouting and posing for her phone.
“Excuse me,”
I said, my voice quiet but firm and authoritative.
“This is a hospital, a place of healing, not a fashion show or a marketplace for you to be shouting at your elders.”
“Furthermore, the workday begins at 8:00 a.m. It is now 9. You are late, and you are causing a public disturbance.”
Interrupted from her narcissistic reverie of virtual hearts and compliments, Tiffany looked visibly annoyed. She lowered her phone, her eyes narrowing as she scanned me from head to toe with a dismissive air. I was wearing a simple, elegant white pantsuit with minimal jewelry.
After a 12-hour flight, my face was tired and pale with little makeup. In the eyes of this flashy young woman, I was probably just some frumpy patient’s relative or some uptight, middle-aged Karen.
“And who are you to stick your nose in my business?”
Tiffany sneered, her tone dripping with contempt.
“I’m reprimanding my employee. If you’ve got nothing better to do, go find a seat somewhere else and stop bothering me. I’m trying to engage with my fans.”
With that, she raised her phone again, crudely shoving the camera in my face. Her voice became high-pitched and grating.
“Look at this everyone. My day is already ruined by some bitter old hag. Probably got dumped by her husband.”
“Her life’s a mess, so she comes out here to start trouble. Poor little Tiffany getting bullied even at work.”
The girl’s insolence and audacity were beyond anything I could have imagined. My initial plan was a simple reprimand before heading to my office and having HR deal with her, but this level of disrespect could not be tolerated.
“Put the phone down now,”
I said, my voice low and menacing, my eyes locked on hers.
“I am asking you to respect the hospital’s regulations and the dignity of others. If you continue to film without permission and insult people, I will have security escort you out and file a formal complaint.”
“Ooh, are you threatening me?”
Tiffany’s eyes widened, her heavily made-up face twisting into a sneer. Suddenly, she did something I never would have anticipated. Holding a large, half-finished iced coffee, she pretended to turn awkwardly.
But in reality, she deliberately slammed into me. The entire cup of cold, dark liquid drenched my pristine white pantsuit. The coffee spread quickly, soaking through the fabric and dripping onto the floor, forming a dark puddle at my feet.
The sticky, chilling sensation made me shudder. The strong smell of coffee filled my nostrils. This suit had been a gift from my father on his last birthday. Now it was stained by this petty, calculated act.
The Threat
Before I could even react, Tiffany burst into a theatrical wail. Her fake sobs echoed through the lobby, drowning out the PA system and drawing the attention of everyone around.
“Oh my god, what did you do? Can’t you watch where you’re going? You pushed me! You ruined my beautiful dress!”
She sobbed hysterically while simultaneously glancing at her phone’s live stream, her performance worthy of an Oscar. Crocodile tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Everyone, you’re all my witnesses! This woman, some crazy patient’s relative, just assaulted a healthcare worker! That’s me!”
“My baby gave me this dress. It’s custom-made. It costs like $2,000. It’s ruined! How am I ever going to get this stain out?”
A murmur went through the crowd. People who hadn’t seen what happened looked at me with expressions of disapproval and pity. Some even took out their own phones to record the chaos.
Seeing she had the audience’s attention, Tiffany pressed her advantage. She stepped closer to me, lowering her voice to a venomous whisper only I could hear.
“You’d better apologize to me right now and pay for this dress. Do you have any idea who my husband is?”
“My husband is Mark Thompson, the CEO of this entire hospital. He has the power to hire and fire anyone here. You mess with me, and you’ll find yourself and your entire family blacklisted. No doctor in this city will ever treat you again.”
Hearing Mark’s name come from the mouth of this brazen, vulgar girl felt like a knife twisting in my gut. My husband, CEO Mark Thompson, the man I had trusted implicitly, the man for whom I had sacrificed my own career to support. Since when did he have a young, arrogant mistress flaunting her power right here in this sacred workplace?
I looked at the coffee stain spreading across my suit, then back up at Tiffany’s triumphant face. Instead of exploding with rage, I suddenly felt an urge to laugh—a bitter, hollow laugh. I calmly took a handkerchief from my purse, wiped the sticky liquid from my hand, and then raised my head, my gaze as sharp as a scalpel.
“You said your husband is CEO Mark Thompson.”
“That’s right. Scared now, aren’t you?”
Tiffany smirked.
“Get on your knees and polish my shoes, and maybe I’ll ask him to forgive your little outburst.”
