The laughter and clinking of porcelain upstairs slowly faded into silence. Only faint murmurs lingered through the ceiling, ghostly traces of the gathering that had once pierced Jeff Benson’s heart like needles. Now, they barely grazed him.He retreated to his refuge downstairs, a cool, spotless basement filled with his laptop, phone, and the quiet hum of control. This was his world, hidden behind the façade of servitude, where none of his in-laws could reach.Wiping his hands clean, Jeff picked up his phone and dialed a familiar number. “Boss,” came the crisp, professional voice on the other end, a tone unimaginable to anyone in the Smith household, who saw him merely as the quiet, obedient husband.“Tonight,” Jeff’s voice was calm and low, “take care of the officials who facilitated Genevieve’s company listing. Ensure everything proceeds flawlessly. Treat them with utmost respect.”“Yes, sir. Understood.”Jeff paused. His eyes drifted to the glowing laptop screen, where a folder of

The night air was sharp with autumn chill, the kind that gnawed through silence and left thoughts raw. Jeff stood by his car at the edge of the Smith estate, the weight of the divorce papers pressing on his chest like invisible chains.His phone buzzed. The familiar number flashed across the screen. “Sir,” came the steady voice of his chief assistant, Ray. “We’ve finalized the transfer of shares for Property A. The paperwork will be ready in two days, right on schedule for Madam Genevieve’s ceremony.”For a long moment, Jeff didn’t answer. He stared at the streetlights reflected in the puddles, faint halos of light trembling with every gust of wind. “There’s no need for that anymore,” he said finally, his voice low and distant.Ray hesitated. “Sir?”“I’ve already asked her for a divorce today,” Jeff continued, every word slow, deliberate, final. “In three days, I’ll come back for the signed papers. As for the shares… handle them however you see fit. I don’t care.”The line went quie

Jeff waved a hand dismissively. “Forget it. Anyone in your position would have reacted the same.” The simplicity of his tone, the calm in his eyes, made her feel smaller somehow, like she had thrown stones at someone who had only ever tried to help. Her gaze dropped to her hands. “Still, thank you. For saving me.”He didn’t answer immediately. For a moment, his expression softened. “You’re welcome,” he said at last.He stood, reaching for his jacket. “You should rest. I’ll have someone bring food and clothes.” She hesitated, fingers gripping the blanket. “Wait,” she called as he reached the door. “I never asked your name properly.” He paused, half-glancing back. “Jeff,” he said simply. “Just Jeff.” “And you?” She gave a small, uncertain smile. “Lena.” Jeff nodded once. “Rest, Lena.” He stepped out quietly, closing the door behind him.For a long time, Lena sat there, the silence pressing softly against her ears. The faint scent of antiseptic still lingered in the air, mingled w

The elevator doors had barely opened before Madam Hillary Smith’s voice sliced through the air like a whip. “Stop right there.”Jeff paused mid-step, jaw tightening. He had been hoping to end this encounter with a polite nod and quiet retreat. No such luck.She stood in the corridor, her friends crowding behind her like an audience at a play, their painted lips already curling into judgmental smiles.“Did I say you could go?” Hillary’s tone dripped with authority, the same tone she used to scold servants, the same one she had used on him countless times before.Jeff’s eyes flicked to her, calm but glacial. “Madam Smith,” he said evenly, “I have nothing more to say. I’ve already discussed the divorce with Genevieve. From now on, my life has nothing to do with your family.”A ripple of whispers passed among her friends. “Divorce? So it’s true.”Hillary’s painted smile turned cold. “Divorce doesn’t mean you get to disregard your elders.” She snapped. “I’m still your senior. It’s only na