THE HIDDEN KING

“Pathetic,” she said, snapping the folder shut. “Is this the best proposal you can give me? Do you even know what’s at stake if Monroe Group loses this contract?”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Nobody dared answer. Except for Gordon. Sitting at the far end of the table, almost invisible among the suits, he cleared his throat.

His tie was crooked, his shirt plain, an odd contrast to the polished executives around him. But his voice, calm and measured, cut through the tension.

“Ashley,” he said carefully, “the issue isn’t the numbers. It’s the presentation. You’re aiming too aggressively at Summit Corporation. They’ve always valued trust over dominance. If you show them cooperation instead of control, they’ll”

Ashley’s laugh sliced through him like a blade. “Cooperation?” she repeated, leaning back in her chair. “And what exactly would you know about business strategy, Gordon? You can barely manage your own pocket change. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

A few muffled chuckles rose around the table. Gordon’s face remained calm, though his fists tightened under the table. “I’m only suggesting”

“No one asked for your suggestion.” Ashley’s tone was ice. “You’re here because you’re my husband, not because you’re qualified. Don’t confuse proximity with importance.”

Her words landed harder than any slap. The room shifted, eyes darting, lips pressed to hide smirks. Gordon looked at her, at the woman he had once believed he could spend his life protecting.

For years, he had shielded her, paved paths she never knew existed, pulled strings in silence. And yet, in her eyes, he was nothing more than an accessory.

He swallowed the sting and forced a smile. “I just thought”

“That’s the problem,” Ashley cut in, her eyes narrowing. “You think. Next time, don’t.”

The projector beeped, signaling the end of the presentation. Ashley stood, gathering her notes with sharp movements.

“Meeting adjourned. The rest of you, fix the proposal. I won’t tolerate another failure.”

The executives scrambled to their feet, eager to escape her temper. Gordon rose last, adjusting his tie. His gaze lingered on her as she swept out of the room, heels clicking like a gavel on polished floors.

The corridor outside the boardroom stretched long and empty. Gordon caught up to her, his voice low but firm. “Ashley, there was no need to humiliate me in front of everyone.”

Ashley didn’t slow down. “Then don’t speak out of turn.”

“I was trying to help.”

She stopped abruptly, turning on her heel. Her eyes, sharp, flawless, merciless, bored into him. “Help?” she scoffed. “Do you think I need help from someone like you? Gordon, you’re lucky I even let you sit in that room. You should be grateful.”

His jaw tightened. “Grateful… for what? For being treated like furniture?”

Her lips curled into a smile that wasn’t a smile. “For being my husband. Do you have any idea how many women would kill to be in my position? And yet, here you are, sulking like a child because your ego’s bruised.”

Gordon exhaled slowly, his patience thinning. “Ashley, marriage isn’t about status. It’s about respect. And right now, you’re not giving me any.”

“Respect is earned,” she snapped, her voice rising. “And what have you done to earn mine? You have no career, no influence, no name. You’re just, ordinary.”

The word hung between them, venomous. Ordinary. For a moment, silence stretched, broken only by the hum of fluorescent lights. Gordon’s eyes darkened, but his voice stayed steady.

“Ordinary,” he repeated softly, as though tasting the word. Then he smiled faintly, a smile Ashley couldn’t read. “Maybe you’re right.”

Ashley tilted her head, smug in her victory. “Of course I am. Learn your place, Gordon. Don’t overestimate yourself.”

She turned again, heels echoing, leaving him in the corridor. Gordon stood still, the sting of her words clawing at him. He had given her everything, silently, invisibly.

Every contract she signed, every rival that fell, every door that opened… had been because of him. And she never knew. She never cared to know. But tonight, he realized something. He was done.

That night, at the Monroe penthouse, the city glittered through glass walls. Ashley sipped wine on the balcony, her phone pressed to her ear.

Gordon sat on the couch, half-listening to her conversation with yet another investor she belittled into submission. When she ended the call, she strode inside, her heels clicking.

“They’re signing tomorrow,” she announced. “Looks like Monroe Group will dominate Summit after all.”

Gordon’s lips twitched. “You mean… if they sign.”

Ashley narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he said smoothly. “Just… don’t celebrate too early.”

Ashley scoffed. “Honestly, Gordon, the more you talk, the more you sound bitter. Do you think I don’t see it? You resent my success. But here’s the truth: you’ll never have what I have. Not in ten lifetimes.”

The words were meant to cut, and they did. But beneath the sting, something inside Gordon shifted, not pain, not anger. Something colder. Something final.

He stood, straightening his jacket. His voice, calm but firm, filled the room. “Maybe you’re right, Ashley. Maybe I’ll never have what you have.”

She smirked. “Finally, you understand.”

“But remember this,” Gordon continued, his eyes locking on hers. “Everything you have… was never truly yours.”

Her smirk faltered. “What?”

He stepped closer, his gaze steady, unreadable. “One day, you’ll understand. And when you do, it’ll be too late.”

Ashley blinked, confusion flickering across her face. But before she could reply, Gordon turned and walked toward the door. “Where are you going?” she demanded.

“Out,” he said simply, without looking back.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Ashley alone in her glittering empire, unaware that its foundation was already beginning to crack.