Chapter 2The Ramen Queen Gets Even

He looked at me with the cold, analytical gaze he usually reserved for a failing stock.

"Your brand is too 'street,' Jade. It’s grounded in being relatable and a bit... unrefined. You can't just jump into high-end production. The market is cold right now. Me helping you wouldn't make a dent. Don't be impulsive."

I let out a sharp, jagged laugh.

I remembered Camille’s post from years ago. She’d complained about being tired, and Dominic had replied: Then stop. I’ll take care of you.

Like a woman possessed, I heard myself ask: "If I actually lose my career because I don't have your help, will you take care of me then?"

His face darkened immediately. "Jade, adults are responsible for their own choices. What I’ve always admired about you is your independence."

Every word felt like a stone hitting my heart.

The truth was, I didn't even have the credentials to be his trophy wife. I was just an "independent" asset he didn't want to be bothered by.

"So what are we, Dominic?" I whispered, fighting back tears.

He looked genuinely confused. "What do you mean? You’re my wife. You’re Mrs. Sterling. Isn't that enough?"

"It’s not."

I swiped my phone open and shoved Camille’s post in his face.

"You can wipe the internet clean for her in a single night. You can dump millions into a documentary just to see her name in lights. You’ll even get into a digital fistfight for her!" My voice was shaking uncontrollably. "And me? Your wife? Am I not worth a single resource? Not even one word of public support?"

He looked at the photo of Camille on the screen—her holding an award, looking radiant. He was silent for a few beats. When he spoke, the calm was gone, replaced by a sharp, business-like edge.

"I do those things for her because she is worth the investment. Every dollar I put behind her yields a hundred-fold return in prestige and profit. Her talent, her vision—that is a premium asset."

His eyes snapped back to me, cold and dismissive.

"And if I help you? What do I get? A percentage of the 'donations' from your livestream? Two dollars for every pack of ramen you sell through a link? That wouldn't even cover the gas my driver uses to get me to work. Investment requires a return, Jade."

Finally, the mask of the "supportive husband" was ripped away. The truth left me pale and trembling.

Dominic saw my shattered expression and sighed. He stepped forward and pulled me into his arms, his voice softening slightly. "Jade, don't be like this. Let’s be rational. Tell me what you need, and we can—"

His phone let out a sharp, demanding ring.

He didn't even look at the caller ID. "Who is it?" he snapped.

A soft, feminine voice drifted through the speaker. "Dominic? It’s Maddie... I mean, Camille."

He stiffened. His instinct was to let go of me and head for the study, but seeing my red eyes, he hesitated, frozen in place.

Camille’s voice continued, laced with a familiar, practiced dependence. "I’m at dinner with those investors you introduced me to. They’re being difficult about the new studio project. They won't sign unless you’re here to vouch for me..." She paused, her voice dropping to a soft plea. "Can you come? They only listen to you."