The CEO's Inheritance

"You pathetic excuse of a man!" Clarissa spat, her voice cutting sharper than glass. "It's exhausting pretending you mean shit to me!"

Her words lingered in the air like poison, her beauty doing nothing to soften the sting. She was flawless by society's standards: high cheekbones, red lips, hair that cascaded down her shoulders like waves.

But Ryan had long since stopped seeing her beauty. To him, she had become a monster the moment the cameras went down, when the public no longer watched their fairy-tale marriage unfold.

Two years. Two long years. That was how long Ryan had endured this sham. He had learned to silence his tongue, to swallow his pain until it rotted inside him. Clarissa was not just any woman, she was a Whintrop.

The Whintrops were a dynasty, a grand name that carried weight in every boardroom, every gala, every political circle. And Clarissa's mother, Eleanor Whintrop, was the queen at the centre of it all, a woman who corrupted her daughter into believing she was untouchable, too high to stoop to the level of the man she had married.

Ryan, on the other hand, was nothing. At least, that's what they told him. A mere employee in the family's conglomerate, a "lowly worker" who should be grateful they even allowed him into their gilded world.

He had worked in their company for years, devoting himself fully, pouring sweat and sleepless nights into projects that pushed their empire forward. But his sacrifices meant nothing. They discarded his efforts like scraps on the floor, crediting others, laughing behind his back, reducing him to little more than a shadow.

And Clarissa? The woman he had once loved, the woman he had sworn to cherish, she discarded him most of all.

He had done everything for her. He'd surprised her to make her smile, enduring the humiliation of her sharp tongue and her cold stares just to hold onto the hope that she might one day soften. He would have given her the world if she asked.

But to her, he was a leper. She hadn't let him touch her since the second year of their marriage. Every night he reached for her every night he was met with disdain, as though his very existence dirtied her.

Ryan lived in silence, but silence was a wound that never healed.

So when he went on a business trip, sent on behalf of the company like the obedient pawn they thought him to be, he threw himself into the work. He delivered, as always. And when the deal closed earlier than expected, he thought he'd surprise her.

A small, foolish part of him still clung to the idea that if he just tried harder, if he showed her he cared, she would look at him the way she once had.

He boarded the plane home with that fragile hope.

But hope has a cruel way of breaking.

The Whintrop mansion loomed like a fortress as he stepped inside, his suitcase still in hand. It was quiet, almost too quiet, until he heard a sound drifting down the hallway, faint but unmistakable.

Low moans, muffled gasps. His heart thudded, confusion rising like bile. He followed the sounds, dread clawing at his gut, until he reached the master bedroom.

The door was half-open.

And that was when his world shattered.

Clarissa was inside, naked, her beautiful body on full display. She was on her knees, her lips wrapped around another man's with obscene devotion. The sight rooted Ryan in place, his breath stolen from his lungs. He wanted to believe it wasn't real, that his mind was conjuring a nightmare. But it was real. Too real.

And the man?

None other than Matthias Reed.

A billionaire. Ruthless, arrogant, untouchable. He came into their lives and had been a guest at their galas. Matthias, represented everything Ryan wasn't--power, wealth, the kind of man Clarissa's mother made her believe was worthy of their bloodline.

Clarissa's moans filled the room as if Ryan didn't exist. His throat closed, rage and heartbreak colliding in a storm that nearly choked him. He wanted to storm in, to drag her away, to crush the smug bastard before him. But his legs felt like lead, frozen in the doorway, watching the woman he loved degrade him without even knowing he was there.

And then Matthias looked up.

The bastard smirked.

That smirk was worse than a knife. It wasn't just arrogance, it was mockery. A deliberate, silent message: I've taken what's yours, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Ryan's fists clenched until his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. Every sacrifice he had made, every humiliation he had endured, all of it boiled over into a fury that made his vision blur.

He stepped inside.

The sound of his foot hitting the floor made Clarissa freeze. She pulled back, lips slick and eyes widening in horror as she turned.

"Ryan--" she gasped, scrambling to cover herself with the sheets.

Matthias didn’t flinch. He leaned back against the headboard, utterly at ease, his smirk widening. "Well, well. Look who decided to come home early."

Ryan's jaw tightened, his voice hoarse with the weight of betrayal. "What the hell is this?'

Clarissa's eyes flickered with guilt for a moment--only a moment--before her face hardened, her chin lifting with defiance. "What does it look like?" she hissed.

"Something you could never give me."

The words hit harder than any slap.

Ryan staggered, his chest burning as though the air itself turned to fire. "After everything I've done for you--everything I've given--this is how you repay me?"

Clarissa laughed, sharp and cruel. "Given? You’ve given me nothing. You think your pitiful salary, your pathetic efforts in the company, mean anything? You’re nothing, Ryan. Nothing but a charity case. Do you know what it’s like, being tied to you? Do you know how humiliating it is for me, to smile beside you in public while everyone whispers that I could do better?"

Matthias chuckled, the sound dripping with condescension. "She's not wrong, you know. A man should know his place. And yours… isn't here."

His fury fought with the cold realisation that this was the final straw. Whatever love remained had been ground into dust.

He stared at Clarissa, the woman he once believed he could save. "I gave you my loyalty," he said quietly, his voice trembling with restrained rage. "I would have given you my life. But you--you've made me regret every second of it."

Clarissa sneered, her eyes like shards of ice. "Good. Then maybe you'll finally get the point."

"I do," Ryan said finally.

"I want a divorce."