The morning after I uncovered my husband’s affair, I packed every suit, watch, and pair of shoes he owned into 2 suitcases and wheeled them into his office during the Monday staff meeting. “You wanted him? Take him,” I told his young intern. The room fell silent… until she pressed a thick envelope into my hands and said, “He never told you who’s really been paying for all of this.”

Adrian staggered backward as if he had been physically struck in the chest by a heavyweight boxer. “You… you can’t do that. That’s illegal. I built this company!”

“I already did,” I said.

I reached into my sleek leather briefcase and pulled out a thick, heavy, red-stamped manila envelope. I dropped it onto the reception desk, right over Tessa’s keyboard.

“Inside that folder,” I announced, turning so the surrounding executives could hear me perfectly, “is the formal, legally binding notification of your termination as Chief Executive Officer, effective immediately. The board of directors—who are entirely controlled by my proxy shares—voted unanimously exactly twenty minutes ago.”

I looked back at Adrian, twisting the psychological knife.

“The termination cites gross, systemic misuse of corporate funds to subsidize an inappropriate, illicit relationship with a subordinate employee,” I stated.

Tessa let out a high-pitched, pathetic squeal, covering her face with her hands, attempting to hide from the dozens of smartphones that were now actively recording the spectacle.