My Husband Brought His Mistress To A Business Dinner To Humiliate His “Useless” Wife. He Didn’t Know I Speak Eight Languages Or That I’m The One Who Actually Owns Our Mansion. Am I Wrong For Letting Him Ruin Himself?

Breaking the Cage

In the cab, I rolled down the window, letting the night wind hit my face. It was cold but incredibly refreshing. I filled my lungs with the air of freedom. Ten years of captivity were over. The phoenix had truly risen from the ashes.

I returned to the house in Greenwich after 2:00 a.m. The large house was steeped in silent darkness, but that silence no longer scared me. For me, it was now just a temporary stop before starting a new chapter. I didn’t turn on the main light. Only the dim glow from a night lamp guided me.

I went straight to the bedroom, the cell that had imprisoned my youth for a decade. I pulled a large suitcase from the top of the closet. The sound of its wheels on the wooden floor was the sound of farewell. I began to pack my things.

There wasn’t much. Ten years as a rich man’s wife, yet my personal belongings amounted to a few sets of old clothes Julian allowed me to wear, the books in other languages I bought secretly and kept under the bed, and most importantly, the wooden box with my diplomas and certificates. The only proof that I once lived a brilliant life.

I left everything Julian had bought me: the expensive jewelry he forced me to wear for appearances, the designer bags I never chose. I arranged them neatly on the vanity as if returning the props from a role I had grown tired of playing.

The next morning, just as the first rays of sun peeked through the window, the familiar roar of a car’s engine sounded in the driveway. Julian was back. I heard his hurried footsteps on the stairs. The bedroom door burst open.

Julian appeared, looking more pitiful than ever. His jacket was wrinkled, his shirt unbuttoned, his tie crooked, and his eyes red from insomnia and alcohol. Seeing me zipping up the suitcase, he lunged forward and grabbed my hand, his voice broken with panic.

“Eleanor, what are you doing? Where are you going?”

I pulled my hand away and continued my task coolly.

“Where I’m going is none of your business. The divorce papers are on the table. Sign them and I’ll see you in court.”

Julian stared at me dumbfounded. He saw no submission or fear in my eyes, only a wall of ice. He knew this time it wasn’t a threat. He knelt and hugged my legs, the cowardly act of a loser trying to cling to his last vestige of power.

“Eleanor, I was wrong. I was drunk yesterday. I spoke without thinking. Forgive me. We’ve been married for 10 years. How can you leave me over something so silly?”

“Something silly?” I laughed bitterly. “You call one zero years of contempt, confinement, and betrayal something silly?”

Julian looked up, his face contorted in an attempt to look pitiful.

“I know I was wrong, but everything I do is for this family. I work so hard. I’m under so much pressure. That’s why sometimes I come home irritable. You have to understand me. Look, in all of New York, no one lives as well as you do. A luxury house, everything done for you, no worries about money. If you leave me, how will you survive?”

He still used that condescending, paternalistic tone. He still thought I was a parasite incapable of living without him as a host.

“Don’t worry about me.” I leaned down to look at him, my gaze sharp. “Richter offered me a position as a strategic adviser. My starting salary is more than enough to buy 10 houses like this one. I don’t need your money. I need respect, something you never had.”

Hearing Richter’s name, Julian seemed to get an electric shock. He let go of my legs and recoiled, pale as a ghost. He realized I was no longer the caged bird. I had flown high, very high, to a height he could never reach even if he broke his neck trying. He changed tactics from pleading to bribery.

“Eleanor, if you’re so good, why don’t you stay and help me? The company is in trouble. The contract with H&G needs follow-up. If you stay, I’ll make you vice president. I’ll give you stock. I’ll fire Chloe right now. I’ll do whatever you want.”

I looked at him, feeling a wave of nausea. He was willing to sell out his mistress, to sell his pride, just to keep me, his money-making machine.

“It’s too late, Julian,” I said, dragging the suitcase toward the door. “When I needed your protection the most, you joined others to humiliate me. When I shone the brightest, you felt envy and tried to drag me down. You don’t love me. You only love yourself. And your company, I’ll take very good care of it. But as a representative of H&G, not as your wife.”

I walked out of the room leaving Julian sitting on the floor, shrunken and pathetic like a dirty rag.

The Final Blow

As I went downstairs to the living room, I found Chloe lurking near the door. She must have followed Julian here to find out what was happening. Seeing me with the suitcase, a flash of triumph shone in her eyes, but her mouth feigned kindness.

“Oh, Eleanor, where are you going? Julian is so upset. Aren’t you going to stay and comfort him?”

I stopped and looked her straight in the face. This woman, so young and already with such a twisted heart. For 3 years, she had not only been Julian’s mistress but also his eyes and ears to spy on me.

“You’re just in time,” I said calmly. “Come in. I have something to show you before I go.”

Chloe, perplexed but curious, followed me into the living room. I opened my purse, took out a thin file, and tossed it onto the coffee table.

“Take a look.”

Chloe picked it up and began to leaf through the pages. Her face changed color from rosy to white, then to an ashen gray. There were detailed printouts of her expenses, the messages she sent Julian reporting on me, and even photos of her with another man, a competitor of Julian’s company.

“Where did you get this?” Chloe stammered, her hands trembling as she dropped the file.

“Do you think because I’m a housewife I’m blind and deaf?” I laughed coldly. “Did you think I didn’t know about the times you took pictures of me at the market to report to Julian how much the parsley cost? Did you think I didn’t find the camera you secretly installed in the living room to watch me?”

I moved closer to her, lowering my voice to a whisper that chilled her to the bone.

“I know everything. I know you’re an infiltrator from a competitor sent to sabotage Julian. I know you’re siphoning money from him to support that lover of yours. I kept quiet waiting for the right moment, and that moment is today.”

Just then, Julian came down the stairs. He heard my last words and looked at Chloe, stunned.

“What is Eleanor saying? Chloe, are you a spy?”

Panicked, Chloe threw herself at Julian’s feet.

“Julian, don’t believe her! She’s making it all up to separate us. I love you, I really do!”

I took a DNA test result from the file and showed it to Julian.

“Really? And whose baby are you expecting? According to this result, you’re 8 weeks pregnant, but 8 weeks ago you were on a business trip to Germany.”

Julian snatched the paper, his eyes bulging as he read the result. He let out a roar of pain like a wounded beast and slapped Chloe so hard the sound echoed through the room.

“You slut! You cheated on me! I kept you like a queen and you dare to betray me?”

Chloe fell to the floor, covering her face as she cried and begged. Julian lunged at her, hitting her mercilessly. The chaotic, tragicomic scene unfolded in the luxurious living room. The two who had conspired to trample me were now tearing each other apart like rabid dogs.