Chapter 3The Ramen Queen Gets Even

Dominic held the phone in one hand while the other continued to pat my back in a hollow gesture of comfort.

After a moment of silence, he spoke into the receiver. "Tell them I’m in for two hundred million. Their portion is guaranteed. If there’s a profit, it’s theirs. If there’s a loss, I’ll cover it."

"Send me the address," he added. "I’m on my way."

The world went silent.

I gripped the hem of his expensive suit jacket with a desperate, manic strength.

"Don't go."

"Dominic, what happened to your principles? What happened to 'Return on Investment'?"

One second ago, I was "not worth the gas money." The next, he was throwing two hundred million at Camille because she made one phone call. He was taking all the risk and giving others the reward, just to clear a path for her.

The slap in the face was so violent I started laughing through my tears.

Dominic’s face shifted into blatant impatience. "Camille just got back to the States. Starting over is hard for her. Helping her is a matter of loyalty. Jade, you’re my wife. Can’t you show a little grace?"

"So, you won't help your wife, but you'll burn the world for her?" My voice was a ghost of itself. "She has it hard? Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked?"

I had built my brand from nothing. I had swallowed every insult, every spicy bite that burned my stomach, every lonely night while he worked. He knew none of it. He had never asked.

"Dominic, if you go, we’re done. I’ll file for divorce."

He brushed my hand off his jacket as if I were a nagging child. "Stop being dramatic. I’ll have someone look into your hashtags. Get some sleep. I’m going."

The door clicked shut. I collapsed onto the floor.

I had tried. I had bet the only thing I thought I had—our marriage—and I had lost. To Dominic, I was so insignificant that he didn't even believe my threat was real.

I sat there for a long time. My manager sent me a text: [Hey, I know you want to move behind the scenes. There’s an investor, Mr. Miller, who’s willing to talk tonight. He’s at the Grande.]

Dominic wouldn't build a road for me, so I’d have to walk through the mud myself.

I washed my face, put on my fiercest heels, and left.

At the hotel bar, Mr. Miller was already waiting. He was oily, his hand lingering too long on my waist as he guided me toward a private booth. I’d dealt with men like him before, but as I was scanning for an exit strategy, I saw a familiar figure at the end of the hallway.

Dominic.

He saw me being led away by Miller. His face darkened into a mask of pure contempt.

Just then, Camille’s voice rang out. "Dominic! Why are you still out here? The board is waiting!"

She spotted me and a flicker of surprise crossed her face, quickly replaced by a smirk. She tucked her arm through Dominic’s and began pulling him toward the ballroom.

"Honestly," I heard her whisper as they walked away, "I thought Jade was a hard-working, decent girl. That’s why I tried to defend her. I didn't realize... this was how she 'networked.' I shouldn't have gotten involved. It’s a bad look for both of us."

Dominic didn't defend me. He let her lead him away.

That was the moment the last spark of love in me died.

Back in the booth, Miller and his cronies were pressuring me to drink. After three glasses, a strange, terrifying heat began to bloom in my chest. I realized something was wrong. They’d spiked the drink.

I lunged out of the booth, stumbled into the hallway, and kicked open the door to the VIP lounge where I knew Dominic was.

The drug was hitting me hard. I looked at the man at the head of the table—the man I’d shared a bed with for three years. "Dominic," I rasped, "Please... they did something to me. I don't feel right. Take me home."

The room went silent.

Camille looked up, annoyed. "Miss Jade, I think you have the wrong room. This isn't one of your... low-rent parties."

I looked at Dominic. He sat there like a king on a throne, cold and unmoved.

The other investors at the table caught the vibe immediately.

"Who let her in?" one of them laughed. "Is this some wannabe trying to 'stumble' into a high-stakes room?"

Another chimed in. "Never seen her. Probably some social climber looking for a billionaire to save her."

I wanted to scream, I’m his wife!

But Dominic got up and walked over to me. He looked at my flushed face, my trembling hands, and my disheveled hair. He didn't even touch me.

"When you decided to go looking for other 'investors,' did you not consider the consequences?"

He stood tall, looking down at me with nothing but disgust. "You made this mess. Clean it up yourself. And don't bring your filth near me again."

He turned around, put his hand on Camille’s shoulder, and walked out.

The rejection felt like a bucket of ice water. I stood there, frozen, as Miller came up behind me and grabbed my arm, dragging me toward the elevators. Fear and the drug made me weak. I struggled, screaming at the silhouette disappearing down the hall.

"Dominic! I was wrong! Help me! Please!"

The footsteps stopped.